When Lines Get Blurred
by Arodain
Summary: The Battle at Hogwarts did not reach its conclusion as expected, and the Second Wizarding War takes on a new direction. Canon compliant until the last part of The Deathly Hallows. HG/TR without the time travel. Work in progress.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This story was inspired by the Harry Potter universe created by J.K. Rowling. I do not own any of the characters and this was written purely for fun and as an outlet for myself.

This very much diverges from canon at the end of the Battle of Hogwarts at Book 7 so much that I consider it an alternate universe in itself. If it's not your cup of tea, then skip this story, but if you'd like to read something based on several 'what if's', then welcome to my imaginings.

Chapter 1

The battle was over, but somehow the war was not won yet. Hermione supposed it was better rather than having lost the war. In a sense, the Order did win in a small way, managing to reclaim Hogwarts from Voldemort.

No, reclaiming Hogwarts is a big win, she thought, walking through the rubble in the Great Hall. But somehow looking at her school, her favorite place in the wizarding world, reduced to ruins, it still felt like a loss.

The Great Hall was full of people, students and teachers and Order members, all of them wondering what had really happened. Professor McGonagall was by the large dais at one end, conversing with Professors Flitwick and Sprout and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Hermione pressed her lips together, her tired but analytical mind going over the events that happened in the last hour.

Harry and Voldemort had faced off in the Great Hall, circled by supporters from both the Light and Dark sides who stopped fighting momentarily to watch the outcome of the long-awaited duel. It was the climax of the whole war, and when Harry and Voldemort cast each of their spells at each other it was as if the entire Great Hall held its breath. Hermione saw Harry's expelliarmus hit Voldemort's avada kedavra, the dark wizard's wand sailing through the air in a graceful arc which was caught by Harry's deft hands as the avada kedavra rebounded back to its caster. Voldemort had howled in a mixture of pain and rage before staggering back, weakened but definitely still alive, grabbing Bellatrix by the arm and apparating away. Their retreat was followed by the disapparation of the other Death Eaters, and the Great Hall was oddly quiet after their departure. Those left standing did not know whether to cheer or not. They were still alive, but so was Voldemort, and the battle that they thought would be the end of the war was just another day in the war that had been going on for far too long to their liking. The uncertainty had been broken by McGonagall's voice, weary but still crisp, directing the students to help triage those injured and needing healing. After that, the Great Hall became abuzz with the low murmurs of the survivors sorting themselves out, and Hermione found herself looking for Harry.

He was not in the Great Hall, that was certain, and Hermione slipped away, walking to Dumbledore's office, knowing intuitively that Harry was going to be there. Sure enough, she found her best friend seated in front of the former headmaster's desk, his forehead resting on the polished hard wood.

"Harry?" she asked tentatively.

The young man raised his head wearily. "Hermione," he answered. "I knew you would think of looking for me here."

"What happened back there, Harry?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said honestly, shaking his head. "The horcruxes, we got them all, didn't we?"

"We did, unless he made more than we know," she said, sitting down heavily beside him.

"I came up here thinking of talking to Dumbledore's portrait, but I was surprised to find it removed," he said, gesturing to the wall where an empty space was.

"Odd," she said, staring at the space where the portrait should have been.

"Where's Ron?" he asked.

"With his family," she answered. "They are grieving Fred, so I decided to leave them alone for now. But I think they will be looking for us soon."

"I don't know what to tell them," he confessed. "I thought this war was going to be finished today. I wanted to be done with everything today. But you saw Voldemort, Hermione. He's still alive, right?"

She nodded sadly. "He looked weakened, but definitely still alive. We need to meet with the Order soon, see what the next step will be. I imagine both sides will be needing to regroup. I know we dealt them a serious blow too, Harry, taking Hogwarts from them, so we shouldn't feel like everything was a loss."

"You're right, it's not," he agreed. "I just don't feel like celebrating much right now."

"I know how you feel," she said, looking at the Elder Wand in his hand. "So that's it, then?" She said, nodding towards the wand.

"Yes, but I really don't feel like using it," he said. On impulse, he laid his own broken wand on the desk and touched it with the tip of the Elder Wand, muttering reparo and watching in growing delight as his own wand was repaired.

Hermione almost smiled when she saw the expression on Harry's face as he welcomed his own wand in his hand. She had learned to be thankful for little things by now, and she was glad that Harry at least found some comfort in the familiar feel of his first wand.

"What do you plan to do with the Elder wand?"

Harry shrugged, slipping it in his pocket. "At first I thought I should just have it destroyed, but since Voldemort is still alive and my Phoenix core wand seems to have unpredictable effects when I use it against him, Maybe it's better to hang on to it for a while."

"But you know the legend. Whoever holds the Elder wand is always sought after by others in the hopes of defeating him. You really want that target mark on you?" she said skeptically.

"I don't really see any difference as I'm always being targeted anyway," he said wryly.

"True," she murmured, shaking her head.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, allowing the gravity of the situation sink in on them, before Harry moved to stand. "I think we should get back to the others?"

Hermione nodded, getting to her feet as well. "The whole school is a mess," she said sadly.

Harry managed a chuckle. "Figures you would be the one to lament that the most."

She shoved him away playfully as he tugged at her ponytail. They made their way back to the Great Hall, where immediately upon entering they were accosted by Ron. "Where have you two been? I was looking everywhere for you!"

"I went to Dumbledore's office, and Hermione found me there. I just felt like I needed a break away from it all." Harry cast a brief glance around and saw Ginny with the rest of her family. She was being held by her mother, and Harry turned his attention back to his friends. "I need to speak with McGonagall and Kingsley."

"They are over there by the dais," Ron said. "Harry, what happened?"

"I don't know," Harry said. "I saw the curse rebound on Voldemort, but it didn't kill him. That's why we need to get the Order back together."

They walked as they talked, and soon they joined McGonagall and Kingsley by the dais. "Professor," Harry said tentatively when the adults were within earshot.

"Harry, there you are," McGonagall said with relief. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I just... needed some time for myself for a bit," Harry said. "But now I need to talk to you about... Voldemort. I haven't really seen you for a year, you and the Order both, but we've been doing some things on Professor Dumbledore's... Well, he left me some things to do, and it was supposed to work towards finally defeating Voldemort, but that didn't exactly go as expected."

"We will talk about this in the headmaster's office," McGonagall said. "Kingsley, meet us there. Pomona and Poppy are already managing the injured so we are no longer needed here."

A few minutes later found the five of them gathered in the headmaster's office. McGonagall briefly wondered aloud at the missing portrait before allowing Harry to recount their past months hunting and destroying horcruxes.

"I thought that I would be able to defeat Voldemort today," Harry confessed.

"When the spell rebounded on him, it was similar to what happened when you were a baby and he tried to kill you," McGongagall said.

"So he is still alive but weakened?" Hermione said. "But then, how do we finish him?"

"Do you think he may have made more horcruxes when he realized we were destroying his other ones?" Ron asked.

"He might have, though having split his soul into half seven times I don't know how much is left in him to make another one. He would have become very, very unstable," Hermione said, having read more on horcruxes than both of the adults in the room with them.

Kingsley's voice was heavy when he spoke. "As much as we were hoping to put an end to things today, we will just treat it as any other day and continue the fight against Voldemort. We have lost valuable Order members today, but the other side has suffered some losses as well. Minerva, what do you plan to do with Hogwarts?"

The professor rubbed her arm as she thought. "The teaching staff and I will stay here and rebuild. I doubt if we can finish fixing everything by the time September comes, but the school will be open by then to receive those who are willing to continue education. Many families would undoubtedly leave the country for their own safety, if they haven't left already, but Hogwarts will not close. Closing the school would be almost like admitting defeat."

Hermione nodded at this, understanding the older woman. "If you're going to rebuild, Professor," she said, "I would like to help. I need to do some research in the library anyway, and... and I don't plan on returning to my parents' house for a while."

"I would appreciate that, Miss Granger," McGonagall said. "But I'm afraid the dormitories are in poor shape. I suggest starting to fix those places up first before you start with the library."

"Or I could sleep in the library," Hermione said with a small smile. "I won't deny that I will not find that nice."

"True," Harry said wryly. He looked at Kingsley. "While Hermione is doing her research, I will join you, Kingsley, and see about regrouping the Order."

Hermione looked at Ron. "Ron, it's all right if you want to spend some time with your family. When you're ready, you can join me here or Harry and Kingsley."

Ron nodded slowly. "I think I'll head back to the Burrow with them. Mum is very upset, and it would comfort her to see us all around for a bit."

The three of them excused themselves as McGonagall and Kingsley continued to talk about Order matters. At the entrance to Dumbledore's office, the stone gargoyle that stood guard before looked at them lifelessly as it lay on its side. Hermione stopped and looked at her feet. "I need to go to the library right away," she said. She looked up, met Harry's eyes briefly before looking away. "I hate not knowing what happened, Harry. I need to find out what happened and how we can kill Voldemort."

* * *

Hours later, Hermione sighed quietly as she rubbed her hands up and down her face several times. Her eyes were getting strained with the dying light of the sun, and the library, what was left of it, had only a few lamps left functioning. More than half of the library was in ruins, torn books lying haphazardly about and tearing at Hermione's heart. The restricted section which contained the horcrux books she was interested in was towards the deeper part of the library and therefore sustained less damage, but she still had to spend a quarter of an hour clearing a spot in one of the corners until she could be comfortable enough to sit and read.

It was true when she told Harry she was eager to find answers to her questions, but the real reason why she sought refuge so eagerly in the library using research as an excuse was to get away from Ron and his questioning looks. She had been avoiding it ever since they shared an impulsive kiss in the Chamber of Secrets, something she was now regretting.

Leave it to me to stop thinking for even half a second and allow that kiss to happen, she thought ruefully, tossing another useless dark arts book into another pile. It wasn't that she wasn't partially attracted to Ron. He was quite all right for a bloke, but the timing of it all... She didn't want to talk or even think about starting relationships at this time.

"I really wish he'd just let go of it for now," she muttered, her voice breaking the silence in the darkening room.

The sound of her voice brought her a little reassurance, but when she stopped talking her ears registered a lingering noise, an echo of a footstep coming from the direction of the library entrance. Quickly, she grabbed her wand-Bellatrix's wand- from the table, standing up and angling her body so that her back was to the wall. "Who's there?" she asked, her voice betraying a hint of apprehension. Had a Death Eater been left behind at Hogwarts?

"You have no need for the wand, I am unarmed and I only wish to speak with you."

The voice was unfamiliar, but it sounded soothing to her and its tone was reassuring. However, Hermione had not spent the last year running from Death Eaters that she was easily lured into false security. Her wand remained raised. "That wasn't what I asked you," she said, her tone biting.

A young man who appeared to be around her age stepped forward, his arms casually raised, palms outward as if to show her he really meant her no harm. "We haven't met yet, so giving you my name would be quite pointless," he said, a terse undertone now evident in his speech.

Hermione took in the handsome face, the wavy black hair and the deep dark eyes. She remembered that face from Harry's memories viewed through a pensieve. Her grip on the wand tightened. "I do know your name," she said, stepping back but meeting the unyielding wall behind her. "Tom Riddle. Or, as you prefer to be called, Voldemort."

His eyes flickered at her words but he kept his hands up and slowly stepped forward to slide into the seat at the other side of the table, keeping the books in between them. "I didn't consider anyone alive today would know the name that was given to me."

"You have given me more than enough reasons to find out things about you," she said.

"Will you put your wand away? I already said I only wanted to talk. Stop holding me at wand tip like I am some miscreant."

"That's a tall order," she scoffed.

He flexed his fingers and her wand flew to his hand after his nonverbal and wandless expelliarmus. She gasped as he twirled the wand almost lazily in his fingers before pointing the tip to her, his black eyes glinting in the low light. "Then I suggest you start working on it," he said, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly in satisfaction as their situation was reversed. He held her at wand tip for a few more moments before he twirled the wand again in his hand and handed it back to her properly. "I did say I only wanted to talk, Hermione."

"How did you know my name?" she asked, reaching out to take her wand back and sliding down into the seat across from him. She figured that if he already had her and wand tip and gave her wand back to her, then he wasn't going to hurt her. Not at this time, anyway, and besides, she was curious.

"I was at Dumbledore's office when you were there both times today. I hid myself with a disillusionment charm when you came in." He rested his hands on the table, his fingers folding over each other. He looked at the books on the table briefly before meeting her eyes again. "Tell me, what year are we in?"

"It's 1998," she answered. "Did you come from the past?" It was a far-fetched idea, but this Tom Riddle sitting across from her looked to be about her age. His first question to her was about the year, which meant that he knew this Hogwarts was radically different from the one he knew from his schooldays. However, that was near impossible. There has been no record of anyone jumping forward in time. There were only spells and magical items to transport a person back, but even then few people messed with time as it was a delicate matter.

"Forward time travel has not yet been made possible to my knowledge," he said. "I woke up in this form a few hours ago in the Chamber of Secrets, right after you destroyed one of my horcruxes there."

Hermione gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Are you... Are you the part that was in Hufflepuff's cup?"

He nodded slowly. "And the diary. When the diary was destroyed in the chamber years ago, my soul was released. However, I could not gain a corporeal form until tonight when you released the soul from the other horcrux and there was enough magic in the castle that the chamber was able to give me this body."

Hermione's mind was already working. She began murmuring. "Of course, years ago, Voldemort was able to gain a corporeal form but it involved a spell, and... But you, how could you gain a body just like that?"

"I only have theories. But the chamber of secrets has always been a place that is imbibed with strong magic, magic from Salazar Slytherin himself. It is deep within the castle and draws power from the whole castle as well. My only theory is that the chamber recognized me as Slytherin's last heir and found a way to bring me back to this world."

"Unfortunately," Hermione muttered, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. "Now we've got two of you to deal with."

"Yes, I had gathered that much while listening in on you earlier. Unfortunately for you, I have no intentions of being 'dealt with', as you put it so eloquently." He paused at this, and Hermione considered him.

He was the same person as Voldemort, they had the same soul, or parts of it anyway, but this person sitting in front of her was very different from Voldemort as well. Voldemort gave in to rage, to fury, and she was sure that if that Voldemort was sitting in front of her now she would have been subjected to a dark curse. This Tom Riddle in front of her was contemplative, with some restraint, and she could clearly see the intelligence that had made him Head Boy during his time at Hogwarts. Was it because he had more of his original soul within him as compared to the small fragment in the other one? Just how different were they?

"I didn't mean to kill you," she said, belatedly realizing how he interpreted her words and wondering why he wasn't more violent about it. "I just meant-"

"You do realize how horcruxes work, right?" he asked her snidely. "As long as the soul has another fragment existing in this world, it will not pass completely into the afterlife. You mean to say you don't plan on killing me?" He tipped his head to one side, as if mocking her if she had the gall to do it.

"That is for the Order to decide," Hermione said.

"The Order?" He asked.

"The group that fights against you," she said.

"Not the Ministry," he murmured.

Hermione pressed her lips together. Voldemort had gained control of the Ministry before it had even organized a counteroffensive for the Death Eaters, but she didn't want to admit it to the man in front of her. However, he read into her silence, and he smiled. "I see the Ministry has been useless to you," he said. "Which makes me wonder how I was defeated."

Twice, she thought to herself. She was sure he wouldn't like knowing that he had been defeated twice by children. "You, the other you, have made some bad decisions. Underestimated some things."

"Tell me about everything that happened," he said.

"How much do you know?" she countered.

"I remember everything that happened until I made the cup into a horcrux," he admitted.

She sighed, secure now in the fact that he was not going to hurt her. She was useful to him because she knew things he didn't, and he was at least secure also in the fact that she wasn't going to kill him. It was as if they had reached an unspoken truce, and she flexed her fingers around her wand before setting it down on the table, watching him as he eyed her lowering her guard.

"I'm not sure how much I should tell you," she said. "I don't want you to get that hindsight and have another go at taking over the wizarding world."

"Whether you tell me or not, I will find out these things through some other way. Wouldn't you rather choose what I learn and how I learn about it?" he asked.

She lowered her eyes and pulled her lower lip between her teeth. "I can see you can be manipulative," she said.

"Of course, I'm a Slytherin," he said, leaning back now, looking more at ease. "And I would take it you are a Ravenclaw?"

"Gryffindor," she corrected him, not helping the note of pride that crept into her voice.

"Oh, that is unsuspected," he said. "Though it makes sense, with you being involved more in the fighting. When I was in Hogwarts, all Ravenclaws were good for were exams and libraries. I'm assuming they remain so today."

"There are a few Ravenclaws in the Order," Hermione said.

"A few," he pointed out, smiling at her. "My point exactly. Any Slytherins?"

"One," she said, her face falling slightly as she thought so Snape. "But he was one of the best men I have ever known."

He was quiet after that, as if sensing that she was thinking of something sensitive. Hermione forced herself to take deep breaths. She will not allow herself to show him how much the war was affecting her, how bad it really was. Without a word, she stood up, taking her wand and stepping away from the table. She took a few steps in the direction of a broken window and gave her wand a wave, quickly fixing the window. She stepped over to the next window and gave her wand another wave, fixing it too.

"You are good at nonverbal spells," he observed, walking a few paces behind her.

"I'm a muggleborn," she said over her shoulder.

"I guessed as much," he said. "Is society still as discriminatory as before?"

She looked at him incredulously as they continued walking. "Of course. You perpetrated that discrimination strongly and violently." She yanked her right sleeve up and showed him her wound. It was still a little fresh, but the word 'mudblood' was clear to see. "This was the handiwork of one of your best followers."

His eyes widened a fraction, and he caught her wrist before she could lower her arm. He brought his other hand up to trace the wound with a fingertip. "Done with a cursed blade, too. It's reeking with dark magic. I presume you will carry that scar for the rest of your life."

She pulled at her hand, and he released his hold. She lightly rubbed her wrist, willing away the tingle she had felt when his skin had touched hers. Who would have thought that the young Voldemort could have hands that knew how to be gentle? "I guessed as much," she said wryly, repeating his earlier words.

They stopped walking when they saw the library doors. Hermione paused, and regarded him seriously. "What are you planning to do, Riddle?"

He leaned against a bookshelf, crossing his arms. She knew he was thinking, and even as his face was unreadable, she knew that he was uncertain. "I still need to learn everything that had happened, Hermione."

"I will tell you," she said. "But I am tired. It's been a long day, and... Riddle, please. Just not right now."

He was not pleased about it, apparently not used to being turned down, so she hurriedly got her next words out. "Tomorrow morning, I promise," she said. "I just want to rest so badly."

After what seemed like a long time, he nodded. "Fine. I will find you tomorrow morning."


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning turned out to be a busy one for Hermione. Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout had asked her to make a fresh batch of healing potions, blood replenishing potions, and pepper up potions for the hospital wing, which was still filled with students and adults alike who could not be moved to St. Mungo's. Hermione had no choice but to help, since she knew that there were too few able-bodied to work around the old castle. Of her close circle of friends, she knew only Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood had remained to help with the restoration of Hogwarts.

She was alone in the dungeons, looking over three different cauldrons while squashing leeches with the flat of her knife. She was wondering if Tom Riddle would find her today as he had said previously, and just as she dropped the leech juice into the cauldron for the blood replenishing potion, she heard the door open. Her eyes flicked up to meet Tom's dark ones as he stood in the door.

"Good morning, Hermione," he said, taking a step into the room and closing the door behind him.

"Good morning," she replied automatically, her manners never failing her. "Did you manage through the night without being seen?"

"Yes. I do know how to do a more than decent disillusionment charm," he explained, sauntering over to peer at the potions she was making. "Are those for the hospital wing?"

She nodded. "They kept some people here because St. Mungo's is full. Madam Pomfrey is the school healer, she asked me to brew some potions to replenish her stock."

"Do you need help?" he asked.

She paused, considering his offer. She still felt weary after her night's sleep, and Madam Pomfrey's request was not light. "If you could do the pepper up potion, I can do the blood replenishing and the general healing potion."

He moved to one of the cauldrons, raising an eyebrow as he did so. "You trust me with this?"

She nodded briefly. "I was thinking things over last night. You and Voldemort have the same soul, but you are also different from each I asked you last night to let me go, you backed off even when I knew you wanted me to tell you everything last night. Voldemort wouldn't have done that, he would have just forced me to stay and he would have just taken what he needed. You need me, but you are willing to compromise. That is why I'm willing to give you a chance."

"You haven't told anyone about me yet," he said, taking a knife and cutting up a piece of liver, his motions fast but meticulous.

Hermione dropped a few more leeches into her cauldron before she began to stir it, checking the flames to see if they were giving her the correct temperature. "No," she admitted, straightening up and fixing her gaze on him. "I am afraid that their first instinct would be to kill you."

"And you don't want that?" he asked.

"Considering that you are practically a horcrux of the current Voldemort, I'm not sure if you can be killed so easily, and I don't want another battle to break out so soon after yesterday's. Besides, I consider you a different person from Voldemort," she said. "I am reserving my judgement of you."

"How noble of you," he murmured, his eyes on his cauldron.

She rolled her eyes at his comment. "You'd better be thankful for that," she told him. "Go ahead. Ask me what you want to know."

"Why are you so involved in this war?" he started.

"My best friend Harry was someone Voldemort had a connection with. Just as Harry was born years ago, when Voldemort was at the height of his power, a prophecy was revealed and it was implied that Harry would be the one to defeat him."

"He was the boy with you in Dumbledore's office," Tom said.

She nodded, starting to sort the healing potion into several small bottles. "When Harry was a baby, Voldemort sought him out to kill him. Harry's mother gave up her life for Harry, giving him a protection charm that made Voldemort's killing curse rebound onto himself. He lost his body, but his soul remained because of his horcruxes, and three years ago his followers were able to restore his body and the second part of the war began. Harry has always been linked to Voldemort's defeat, and I helped him in whatever way I could."

"What happened in the Great Hall yesterday?"

"That was what I was researching at the library, though now that I have met you, I think I understand," she said. "You see, my friends and I have destroyed all of Voldemort's horcruxes before he and Harry faced off yesterday. When they dueled, Voldemort's killing curse rebounded onto himself again. It should have killed him, but since you have woken from the chamber, it was like he had another horcrux to keep his soul anchored. I don't know how damaged his corporeal form is, though, but I am sure he is still alive. He might try another regeneration potion."

Tom's eyebrows furrowed as he frowned. "What did he use for his regeneration potion before?"

"Bone of his father, the hand of one of his servants, and Harry's blood."

He was thoughtful. "He used my father's bone then? It must not have turned out well for him. Can you give me an image of him, from your mind?"

She was taken aback. "You mean, through Legilimency?"

"You only need to put forth his image in your thoughts for me to see. I will not dive deeper into your mind," he assured her.

Hermione clenched her teeth together. Alastor Moody must be doing somersaults in his grave at the lenience and complacency she was allotting for Tom Riddle. His numerous warnings of constant vigilance were ringing in her ears as she considered the man standing in front of her. "I shouldn't," she said softly.

He stepped even closer to her, crowding her against the table. "Just do it, Hermione. I will be quick, and I promise I will not go further. I am not a kind person, but I do know how to be appreciative. You kept your promise to me this morning. Allow me to return the favor by keeping one of mine."

Looking at his handsome face and hearing his smooth voice, Hermione could see how Tom could have fooled so many people in his younger days. If she did not know any better, she would never have thought that he would ever be a dark wizard. "Don't take me for a fool, Riddle," she said. "I know how manipulative you can be."

"Then you should also know that I don't really need to ask your permission to do Legilimency on you," he said. "The fact that I asked you is evidence that I respect you."

"You respect me? A mudblood?"

He seemed to roll his eyes. "As much as the Voldemort you knew probably prattled on about blood purity, Hermione, you know as well as I do that I also have muggle blood. All that pureblood mania I perpetrated at the start was only a means to lure the purebloods to my cause so I can use their money for my purposes."

"You mean to say you're not against muggleborns?" she asked, surprised.

"I'm against muggles," he said. "Because of past experiences. For the same reason, I think muggleborns are at a disadvantage in the wizarding world because of their heritage but I put more stock in magical talent and ability rather than blood alone. It is why I worked so hard to learn everything when I was at Hogwarts."

"I'm a muggleborn and I'm top of my year," she told him. "And yet I get this." She showed him her scar again, and felt that familiar tingle when his hand came up to wrap his finger around her arm.

"Based on what I know so far, it seems that some things changed along the way from how I planned them since leaving school," he said, brushing the pad of his thumb over her scar. "It was not my goal to be a dark wizard. I only wanted to know everything about magic, and to live forever."

"I understand wanting the knowledge. But why would you want to live forever?"

He shook his head as he removed his hand from her arm. "That is too personal for me to share," he said simply.

Her interest was piqued. If it was too personal that he didn't want to share it, then it must be something that was too terrible or embarrassing, and since she knew that Tom Riddle cared not to deny that he was capable of doing terrible things, then it must be the latter reason.

"If I let you perform Legilimency on me, will you tell me?" she asked, willing to make the trade.

She was surprised when he let out a short chuckle. "No," he said, still shaking his head, but the corner of his lips were not upturned into a small smirk. "That is very cheeky of you. Never mind the Legilimency. I suppose I could see from a newspaper clipping or something similar."

He started to move away from her, but her hand shot out to stop him. "All right, do it," she said, a little breathless with her quick decision. "Do the Legilimency."

Tom didn't waste another second. He stepped back towards her and put two fingers under her chin, tilting her head up so he could look into his eyes. Hermione heard a murmured " _Legilimens_ " before she felt something like a breeze washing over her mind. It was far from the harsh intrusion Harry had told her he experienced when he was studying Occlumency with Snape. Hermione put forward her memories of Voldemort, particularly of the battle at the Great Hall that occurred just the previous day. Remembering the battle brought forth another memory, a particularly strong one, of Bellatrix Lestrange torturing her at Malfoy Manor. When the memory took hold in her mind, she felt Tom pull back.

She gasped out as she pressed a palm to her forehead, willing the image of the mad witch out of her mind. Tom put a concerned hand at her elbow. "I was careful not to disturb anything else," he said, apparently bothered about her discomfort.

"I know, and I thank you for that," she said, pulling her arm firmly away from him. "But thinking about Voldemort triggers more memories and when I think about Bellatrix Lestrange the scar hurts. I usually am able to deal with it, but opening my mind to you, it just made the memory much clearer. When my mind is closed off, I don't feel it."

"Do you know Occlumency? Proper training in Occlumency can rid you of the pain caused by memories. It also lessens the effects of the Cruciatus," he said. "I could teach you."

"In exchange for what?" she asked.

"For getting rid of Voldemort," he answered. "I understand that you and your Order think of me as the enemy. Yes, Voldemort and I come from the same soul, but we are not the same. I have more than half of the original soul, and he has but a small fragment. When I saw him in your mind, I saw something that is not even human. He has developed his magic so much that it altered his body significantly. After being hit by that Avada Kedavra, I am certain he will be deteriorating, which means that he will probably ask his followers to make him another regeneration potion. He will be looking for more suitable components of the potion."

"Meaning he will be looking for you," Hermione said, understanding. He was a wizard, of the same flesh and blood as Voldemort.

He nodded. "I have no intention of remaining hidden for the rest of my life just to elude him. Therefore, we need to get rid of him."

"I see a few problems with that plan," she said. "How can I be sure you won't step in to lead the Death Eaters once he's gone?"

"Death Eaters... Is that what I call them?" he asked, giving another short chuckle. "You can't be sure, Hermione, and any promise I make at this point will be meaningless because it would be a lot to ask you to believe me on that matter. I suppose you will just have to take your chance."

"Or I could just refuse your offer to teach me Occlumency," she said, giving him a measured smile. "I can stand a little pain as opposed to the nightmare of having unleashed a second, more improved Lord Voldemort into the wizarding world."

"You are a difficult woman to woo, Hermione Granger," he said, pressing his lips into a tight smile. "Perhaps I should up my offer? What would you like?"

"I only want this war to be over," she confessed. "Other than that, there is nothing else. I already gave up too much for this war. Honestly, Riddle, I don't know how the Order will take your existence. I am fairly certain that they will want to have you eliminated, and I am unfortunate enough to have known you for a short while to see you as another person other than Voldemort. I can't just let them kill you."

They fell into silence, and Hermione used the opportunity to put the bottles in boxes to bring them up to the hospital wing. Slowly, a course of action was coming to her mind. "I'l tell you what I'll do. I told the Order that I will be researching on the reason why we weren't able to kill Voldemort. When the Order next meets, I will tell them about you, and see how they think. If I am certain that they will not threaten your life, then you can make yourself known. If we are to keep you alive, then the Order will want a way to still kill Voldemort. You and I need to find a way to do this."

"Soul magic is very complex and poorly researched," he murmured, bottling the blood replenishing potions using wandless magic. "We might have to modify some spells, if we can find the basic framework to work with. I need to read on it before I can think of something concrete."

Hermione nodded. "In the meantime, I don't think you will appreciate hiding all this time. Few people alive today know the name Tom Riddle. There is just me, Harry, Ron, and the Weasleys. I don't know if any of the Death Eaters know. Harry and Ron are away from Hogwarts at this time, so I suppose you can go around freely until school resumes. If anyone asks, you can just say you are a resident of Hogsmeade who has come to help with the rebuilding of the school. Where did you stay last night?"

"In the chamber of secrets," he answered, filling a second box with the blood repleneshing potion bottles. "It was entirely undamaged. Slytherin put up considerably strong wards."

"That's it, then." She closed the lid of the box, pushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. "I have a few weeks to introduce you to the Order. We'll work on our research during that time as well. I need to bring these up to the hospital wing. Can you finish bottling up the Pepper Up potion while I bring these two boxes up? I'll come back for the third box later."

He nodded, and Hermione quickly cast a levitation charm on the two large boxes and started her trek to the hospital wing. It was only a day after the battle, and there were still a considerable amount of rubble lying around before real reconstruction of the damaged parts could be done. She passed a couple of Hogwarts graduates using magic to clear some rubble, and by the time she reached the hospital wing she had seen some other people cleaning up.

Hermione deposited the boxes in the storage room located at the back of the hospital wing and wiped her hands on her jeans to get some of the dust off. She was just on her way out of the hospital wing when a familiar blond head hailed her.

"Hi Luna," Hermione said, giving the younger girl a smile. "You're helping out in the hospital wing?"

"Hermione, hello," Luna said, smiling brightly. "I was helping Madam Pomfrey with distributing the potions, but I think she doesn't have anything appropriate to treat a Nargle infestation."

"Er... I'm sure she knows best," Hermione replied hesitantly. "How have you been?"

Luna shrugged. "I've been better. Keeping busy helps. You didn't go with Harry?"

"No, I needed to do some research in the library here. As soon as I mentioned the word research, Harry and Ron couldn't wait to get away," she quipped, trying to make light of the matter. "Anyway, it's nice seeing you but I need to go back and get another batch of potions from the dungeons."

She tossed her a wave and exited the hospital wing. However, when she stepped out the door, she saw Tom was standing there, the box of pepper up potions cradled in his arms. "Oh, Riddle, I said I was coming back for those."

"I thought I might as well save you a trip," he said, shifting the box in his arms. "And I also wanted to see the extent of damage to Hogwarts."

She took the box from him using a levitation charm. "Thanks. You haven't seen it yet?"

"I can't really appreciate it when moving in the darkness to avoid detection," he said wryly.

"Oh," she said. "I didn't realize... have you had something to eat?"

"I went to the kitchens early this morning, so I've had something," he said, following her into the hospital wing. His eyes roamed over the room full of injured people. Hermione watched his face after she deposited the box in the storage room. His expression was neutral as his eyes met hers. "What about you?"

"Not really hungry," she said, leading him out of the hospital wing. Right outside of it, she bumped into Neville.

"Hermione, there you are," Neville said. "Professor McGonagall is asking if you could go and see her at the entrance of the Great Hall? She wants your help in reconstructing the Hogwrats wards, I think." Neville's voice trailed off when he realized that Hermione was not alone.

"Oh," Hermione said again, not knowing whether she should introduce Tom or not as Neville looked at her expectantly. She decided to throw social etiquette out the window and edged away. "I'll go to her right away. And Neville, can you find Madam Pomfrey and tell her I put the potions she requested in the storage room? I think she needs them as soon as possible."

"Who... oh, all right, Hermione," Neville said, throwing Tom another curious look. "See you at the Great Hall for lunch?"

"Yes, if I'm not busy," she called over her shoulder, already walking away with Tom in town.

Tom was smirking. "One of your friends?" he asked.

"Yes, that was Neville Longbottom. Sorry I didn't introduce you properly, I honestly didn't know how to do it," she said.

"I doubt he would know who I really am," he said. "Your skittishness about the matter only made him more curious."

"I can't exactly be as smooth about it as you."

"I know. You're a Gryffindor and you wear your heart on your sleeve. Perhaps you can do better introductions with the next person we meet."

Hermione stopped in her tracks so suddenly he walked into her. She whirled around, coming nose to nose with him. "I cannot introduce you to Professor McGonagall. When I was in second year, your diary tried to possess someone and McGonagall was there when everything was resolved."

"Ah, yes. Ginny Weasley," he said.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You tried to kill Harry back then."

"Because he was trying to destroy the diary."

"You possessed Ginny."

"Because I was trying to regain a corporeal form," he said.

She let out a frustrated sigh. "Why am I even trying to be friendly with you?"

"Because you are a Gryffindor with a noble heart," he answered for her. "And because I haven't given you any reason so far to be hostile to me. I have been cordial and honest with you since meeting you yesterday, and I am still speaking the truth when I tell you, I promise I will not harm you."

"What about others? Will you harm them?"

"It depends on how they treat me," he answered. "It always has. I do not know what Dumbledore may have told you about my past acts, but I was never the one who got things started. However, when I did perceive a slight to my person, I always acted with retribution."

"Yes, because you're a Slytherin," she said.

"Oh, more than that. I am the Slytherin," he corrected her with a smirk.

Hermione rolled her eyes, not realizing that they had reached the corridor to the Great Hall.

"Hermione!"

She froze when she heard McGonagall's voice. She was still standing with Tom, and she wished she could just make him disappear through the wall. "Bloody hell," she muttered, squeezing her eyes shut for a second before smoothing her features and turning around to face her teacher.

"Professor," she said. "Neville said you were looking for me?"

"Yes. Harry told me you were good at setting wards. I thought we should reconstruct Hogwart's wards for now. They have been broken in the assault yesterday. I'm going to take care of the north end, can you take care of the south? I will come by later to check on your work. I would have asked Professor Flitwick, but he is still recovering and Professor Slughorn is at St. Mungo's."

Slughorn! I forgot that he also knows who Tom Riddle is! Hermione thought. "All right, Professor," she said quickly, turning around to make a hasty exit before McGonagall could ask about her companion.

"Thank you. Who is your friend?"

"Oh, um, a volunteer, from Hogsmeade," Hermione said.

"Thomas, madam," Tom said, giving a little bow. "It is a pleasure to be of assistance here."

"Yes, I was just showing him where his help was needed most," Hermione said. "I'll set up the wards right away, Professor."

She turned around once again and grabbed Tom's arm, practically yanking him along. When they were out of earshot, she let out a breath of relief, thankful that Tom had at least a quick thinking mind and a natural charm. "Thomas?"

He shrugged. "It's a common enough name. Come, Hermione. We have wards to set up."

* * *

Three hours later, Hermione sat against the south wall of the castle, wondering at this side of Tom Riddle she had just discovered. When they had started to set up the wards, he had stood back, but after she had put up several basic protection spells, he came forward and asked to borrow her wand.

"The original wards that have been here for centuries were set up by the Founders," he had explained. "I am the only person left with founder's blood. Let me smooth over your wards. The castle will recognize my magic and will integrate with the wards better."

So she had handed him her wand, and it was her turn to stand back. She had watched in growing amazement as Tom fortified her wards, waving her wand gracefully while murmuring under his breath. She felt his magic, strong and controlled, as he channeled it effortlessly. However, it was not his magical ability that left her in wonder, but the change in his countenance. Weaving spell after spell, his face lost that carefully controlled expression he always wore, and took on a more relaxed and pleased appearance.

He really does loves magic, Hermione thought as he stopped to admire his work, twirling the wand in his fingers. He looked over at her and smiled, a genuine smile, as he handed her wand back to her.

"Care to test it?" he asked her.

Hermione stepped forward and probed at the wards. They were strong and solid, and she pushed around it, not finding the seams where the different protection spells have joined together. It was one solid sheet of magical protection wrapped around the southern half of the castle. "Wow," she said, shaking her head. "It's not often that I am rendered speechless. This is really... you're very good."

"Your wards were good too," he said, not in a condescending manner. "But it takes a lot of practice and control to fuse the wards together. Otherwise you just end up with layers and layers of different spells instead of an interwoven matrix that would take longer to unravel. Wards are often broken by finding the seams and dismantling it from there. If you have created a complex enough matrix, it would be near impossible to find the seams. Where did you learn to set wards? It is not taught in the regular Hogwarts curriculum, if I remember correctly."

They began to walk back inside the castle. "It was the war," Hermione said. "I spent the last year hiding from the Death Eaters. Harry, Ron and I moved around a lot, living in a tent, and I taught myself how to set up wards."

"Self-taught? You are an amazing witch," he said.

Hermione tried not to blush at the compliment, but knowing that the person it came from was one of the greatest wizards in the world, she couldn't help it. "I should be pleased hearing you say that, but I'm not sure how to feel knowing it came from someone who ends up a dark wizard."

Surprisingly, he did not take offense at her words, nor did he deny that he was a dark wizard. "Dark magic, light magic... words that were cooked up by less intelligent wizards. There was a time, long ago, when all that was just called one word: magic. Magic is magic, Hermione. Have you not wondered dark spells are stronger than light spells? It has nothing to do with the fact that they are evil."

"Hogwarts does not teach dark spells in its curriculum," Hermione said. "It is forbidden."

He quickly shook his head. "You don't know much about dark magic, do you?"

"No, and I am perfectly fine not knowing," she said.

He smiled at her, and this time, he looked condescending. "Let me enlighten you. Keep an open mind."

She shook her head. "I really don't want..."

"Dark magic is stronger, because it usually asks for a sacrifice," he continued, not heeding her protests. "Blood magic is an example. The regeneration potion Voldemort used called for sacrifice of blood, flesh, and bone in return for resurrecting a body. Now, you might say it's dark magic, and condemn its use, but let me ask you to consider something else. How did Harry survive Voldemort's attack when he was a baby?"

Hermione realized what he was implying. "Harry's mother gave up her life to protect him."

Tom nodded. "That was the sacrifice. It is a form of blood magic. The result is a protection charm so strong it was able to repel an Avada Kedavra, which as you know is unblockable. But did you see it as dark magic? No. But just the same, it involved a sacrifice."

"Professor Dumbledore said it was his mother's love," Hermione said.

"He was sugarcoating it for you," he said. "How many other children have been killed? Are you saying their mothers didn't love them enough to save them?"

"No," she admitted.

"Another example would be the Imperius curse," he said. "Tell me, why is it considered an unforgivable?"

"Because it removes free will," Hermione answered automatically.

"And what can you say about Amortentia?" he asked, and his voice gained a hard edge. "You were taught how to brew it in school, were you not?"

"It's a love potion," Hermione said.

"That also takes away free will," Tom finished for her. "Why is it not considered unforgivable? Because it does not hurt anyone? I am sure you know my family's history because of that damned love potion."

Hermione remained silent, knowing how hard a childhood he had.

Tom stopped walking and ran a hand through his hair. "My point is, Hermione, is that magic is not absolute and therefore cannot be labeled as either being dark or light, right or wrong. Magic just exists for us to use, and many wizards and witches have bent its rules this way and that to serve their purposes, but it is never black or white."

"I understand your point," Hermione said. "And it is a valid reasoning. You are right, magic is magic, and it depends on how people use them. Thus, there are still dark wizards, who use magic for dark purposes, and there are light wizards, who do the opposite. In the wizarding world, there is still dark and light, right and wrong. Killing people is wrong."

"Yet you say that you are almost certain the Order will want to have me killed," he said. "If your Order desires my death, does that make them dark?"

"They would say that it is to protect the wizarding world from a dark wizard. It would be for the greater good," she said.

"I made my horcruxes in order to protect myself, my heritage," he said. "Does that make it acceptable as well?"

Hermione put a hand to her head and groaned. He smiled at this. "Am I giving you a headache? We can argue all day about the subject, and that would only prove my point. Magic... and people... are never really black or white."


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione had a restless sleep that night, recalling Tom's arguments from that afternoon. He had argued his point impressively, and she had to admit that it was difficult to put a label on people. She thought about Dumbledore. Growing up in Hogwarts, she had always thought that the old wizard was the epitome of kindness, but at the last minute she had discovered that he had purposely left out the fact that he expected Harry to die along with Voldemort, all for the greater good. She thought about Professor Snape, who had been the bane of their existence all those years at Hogwarts, who turned out to be the most self-sacrificing man she had ever known. Then she thought about herself, obliviating her parents and sending them off to Australia for their own safety. But in doing so, had she not robbed them of their own free will as well?

These thoughts kept tumbling over in her mind throughout the night, so she was quite short-tempered the following morning when Tom found her walking towards the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Good morning, Hermione," he said pleasantly, looking good as if he had the best sleep in the world. "Thought I would join you for breakfast today."

"I'm not in a good mood, Riddle," she snapped at him.

"Is it because of the food for thought I gave you yesterday?" he asked. "Don't think about it anymore. You won't be able to answer what is right and wrong today. I'm afraid the only ones who can answer that would be the future generation, but that doesn't give them the right to judge us either, because they are not here."

"Please no more riddles until I have had my breakfast," she told him firmly. "And I meant _both_ meanings of the word."

He stopped talking, but he did not leave her alone. In fact, as they neared the doors to the Great Hall, he hurried forward to hold it open for her.

"Thanks," she muttered automatically. "Are you going to sit with me? I sit at the Gryffindor table."

"Why? That table is crowded enough. There's more room at the Slytherin table," he said.

Hermione looked over and saw a lone figure sitting at the Slytherin table. She wouldn't mistake that platinum blond hair for anyone else. "Oh, Godric," she muttered, doing an about face and, for the second time in two days, smacking into Tom Riddle. "There is no way I'm sitting there with Draco Malfoy."

Tom's eyebrows went up. "Malfoy? A descendant of Abraxas, I presume."

"Yes, and the largest prat in the whole world," she said, disentangling herself from him. "I am going to sit at the Gryffindor table even if I have to squeeze myself in between-"

"He's already coming this way," Tom said, a note of amusement creeping into his voice.

"I told you, I'm in a bad mood, I don't want to talk to him now-"

"Granger? Is this guy bothering you?"

Hermione stopped struggling against Tom to face Draco in amazement. "Malfoy?" she said. His tone implied that he thought Tom was bothering her, and he had come over to... what, to help her out? _Unbelievable_.

Draco gestured to her and Tom. "Is everything all right? You seemed to be struggling against him."

"She was just considering where to sit for breakfast," Tom said smoothly. "Apparently, she has a problem sitting with you."

Draco stiffened. "I'm Draco Malfoy," he said, extending his hand. "I believe we haven't met before."

"Tom Riddle," Tom said, taking Draco's hand and giving it a firm shake, sizing him up at the same time.

 _Although you prefer to be called Voldemort_ , Hermione thought, watching as the two young men gauged each other. "Yes, Tom is from Hogsmeade who volunteered with the rebuilding. I was showing him around the castle."

"You didn't go to Hogwarts?" Draco asked.

"No, I'm self-taught," Tom answered, his smile on the sly side.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Hermione asked bluntly. "Aren't you on the wrong side?"

"You have to forgive her morning manners. She hasn't had breakfast yet, and has therefore forgotten what we have talked about just yesterday," Tom said.

 _Right and wrong. Fuck Tom Riddle for being too good with words_. Hermione took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," she said to Draco, taking in his appearance. He had always been handsome, but his face was now thinner, paler, and he had dark circles under his eyes. "Let's just sit down and have breakfast. We do not even have to talk."

They sat down at the Slytherin table, and food magically appeared in front of them straight from the Hogwarts kitchens. Hermione helped herself to a toast, and it was only after she had finished taking several bites did Draco clear his throat.

"Actually, Granger, I do want to talk to you," he said. Hermione opened her mouth, but Draco held a hand up. "I never went back to the manor, after the battle, that's why I'm here."

"Are you saying... you've left the Death Eaters?" she asked slowly.

"He's a Death Eater?" Tom asked.

"I was branded last year, but I never really took it to heart," Draco said.

"May I see the brand?" Tom asked.

Draco hesitated for a moment before laying his left arm on the table, bringing his sleeve up to show the skull and the snake. Hermione noted the interest in Tom's eyes, and how he was careful not to touch the mark. "It's been burning since yesterday. They've been calling me, but I haven't responded."

"What about your mother? Didn't Voldemort threaten to kill your family if you disobeyed him?" Hermione asked.

Draco's face looked strained. "My mother was killed yesterday, executed by my aunt when it was discovered that she had lied for Potter. I have nothing to protect now, just myself, so I'm here. I just wanted to tell you that I am no longer with them, and I will stay out of your way, out of Potter's way." He paused, and reached into the bag next to him. "I know there were a lot of bad things between us. I'm not even asking for your forgiveness. But to show you I mean well, I brought you something."

He took out a wand, and Hermione gasped. She took it from him, and a warmth spread from her hand up her arm. "My wand," she whispered. She gave it a twirl, and a shower of sparks flew from its tip.

Draco nodded. "I kept it since it was taken from you at the manor. Having lost my own wand, I know how you must feel."

Hermione felt her eyes water at the sincerity she found in his words. "Thank you, Malfoy," she said. "Does... does Professor McGonagall know you're here?"

"Yes, since yesterday. I presented myself to her. She has allowed me to remain here at Hogwarts temporarily, until the Order decides what to do with me. If Potter doesn't kill me on sight, that is," he added.

"He won't, I won't let him," Hermione said. "I will talk to them, make them see..." Her voice trailed off when she saw the questioning look Tom was giving her.

"Do you always make it a habit to champion other people's causes in front of the Order?" he asked, indirectly reminding her that she had also promised to talk to the Order on his behalf.

Draco's face relaxed at Hermione's words, enough to allow him an attempt at a smirk. "You shouldn't be surprised with Granger doing things like that. When we were in fourth year she created a movement that called for the liberation of house elves. She called it the Society for the Protection of Elvish Welfare. SPEW for short."

Tom's careful facade fell for one moment as his eyes widened in disbelief. Hermione shot him a warning look, telling him not to say anything, but he dropped his head and let out his breath in a rush as if he was trying to smother a laugh. After a few moments, he gave up being discreet and laughed outright.

Hermione still felt a little miffed, having had less sleep than she wanted, and not even having her fill of breakfast yet. But seeing Tom Riddle laughing freely like any other normal person made it impossible for her to hold on to her foul mood. She sighed and shrugged, letting the two boys with her get on with their mirth. "Fine. I admit to that. Being the cleverest witch of my age doesn't exempt me from getting a bad idea once in a while." She shot a meaningful look at Tom, one that he understood.

"Touche, Hermione. Touche," he said, patting her shoulder.

* * *

Two days later, Hermione was standing at the main hall of the castle, shrugging her arm into a light jacket before stepping out when she felt a hand on her shoulder, pulling up the jacket into place. "Oh, Riddle," she said, glancing at the tall boy beside her. "Thank you. I didn't see you at breakfast this morning."

"I was in the library, doing a little bit of reading," he said. "However it's not easy to look for books when more than half the library is in a mess, so I was doing a little bit of cleaning up as well."

Hermione flushed guiltily. Even though she had gotten her wand back, she did not feel safe giving Tom Bellatrix's wand, so he was still doing wandless magic. He hadn't asked her for the extra wand, but it still made her feel uncomfortable having two wands when he had none.

"I'm sorry, I said we will do the research together, but the past couple of days McGonagall asked me to do errands..."

He waved his hand as they walked together towards the gates, where the anti-apparition wards ended. "No problem. Where are you off to today?"

"Today is the funeral for several members of the Order," Hermione said. "And then it will be followed by an Order meeting."

"Don't tell them about me yet," he said.

"Yes," she answered. "Professor McGonagall will probably tell them about Draco Malfoy, and dropping news about your existence without offering a way to kill Vodemort without killing you will not accomplish anything."

He nodded. "I will resume my work in the library. I might have something when you get back."

"Oh, I'm not staying at the castle tonight," she said. "I will be staying at the Burrow then at Grimmauld Place. That's the Weasleys' house and my friend Harry's house."

A brief look of disappointment crossed his face, and she felt an unexpected tightness in her chest. "When will you be back?" he asked after a while.

"I will be back here tomorrow at tea time," she replied. "It's just that Molly, the Weasley matriarch, treats me like her own daughter now, and she wants me to stay with them for a bit so she can make sure I'm all right."

"Be careful out there," he said. "I didn't spare your life so that a Death Eater can kill you instead."

Hermione's eyes darted to him, and she relaxed when she saw the slight upturn of his lips. "I'm always careful," she said. She contemplated him for a while, before reaching into her bag and pulling out Bellatrix's wand, handing it to Tom handle first. "Here," she said. "My rational mind is saying I'm insane for doing this, but my Gryffindor heart just can't leave you unarmed."

He was pleasantly surprised as he took the wand from her. "Thank you, though I am not exactly helpless without it."

"Maybe you can do a lot more cleaning up while I'm gone," she quipped. "See you tomorrow, Tom."

She was already through the gate and about to apparate when she realized that she had called him by his given name. She turned to catch a glimpse of his face, still looking pleasant, before she disapparated. She felt the familiar squeezing that was associated with traveling before she materialized in front of Andromeda Tonks' home. Andromeda had decided to have Remus Lupin and her daughter buried at the back of her house, so that her grandson, their son Teddy, can visit their graves as often as he wished.

The rest of the Order members that were close to the Lupins were there, and Hermione easily found her way to Harry, who was wearing a formal muggle suit for the occasion. He looked subdued, saying goodbye to the last person in the world who ran around Hogwarts with his father back in the days they were in school.

"Hi Harry," she said, laying a hand on his arm.

"Hey, Hermione," he answered with a weary smile. "How have you been?"

"All right," she answered. "You?"

"Still feeling tired," he said. "I've been staying at the Burrow. I didn't want to stay at Grimmauld place by myself."

"I understand."

"How is the Hogwarts rebuilding going?"

"Slow but steady," she said.

The arrival of Kingsley Shacklebolt put a premature end to their conversation, as he started the service for the burial of Lupin and Tonks. It was a short ceremony, there were no long and fancy eulogies to be said. When it was over, Andromeda quietly thanked them for coming before attending to her grandson, who was beginning to fuss.

Andromeda offered tea, but since the group was heading over to the Burrow for Fred's funeral, they had to decline politely before apparating to the Weasley home.

The Burrow was, unlike any normal day, particularly quiet. Fred's body was lowered into a plot in their backgarden, surrounded by flowers that made an effort to make the affair less sad. George was looking grave throughout the simple ceremony, bolstered on either side by his mother and father as if he would fall to the ground without their support. Bill and Fleur Weasley were standing together, with Fleur holding Bill's hand in a comforting grip. Ron stood on Bill's other side, with Charlie Weasley's arm slung around his shoulders. Ginny Weasley was at Molly's other side, half burrowing into her mother's side, while Harry stood behind her, a hand placed on her shoulder. Hermione pursed her lips, not even listening to Kingsley's words, as memories of Fred and his antics played through her mind. Fred and his twin always liked laughter, and he would have rolled his eyes at the sobriety with which his funeral was carried out in. However, no one was in the mood for laughs and jokes today.

After the short ceremony, Kingsley left for the Ministry, reminding them that the Order was to meet at Grimmauld Place in two hours' time. Hermione and Harry joined the Weasleys for lunch at their kitchen.

"Hey Mione," Ron said, sliding into the seat next to her. Now that the funeral was over, he seemed relieved.

"How are you holding up?" Hermione asked.

Ron shrugged. "All right, considering the situation. I'm going to stay at Grimmauld Place with Harry starting tomorrow. How did you get your wand back?"

Hermione looked down, noticing that the tip of her wand had slid out of her jacket sleeve. She wasn't prepared to tell them yet about Draco Malfoy, but she couldn't lie to their faces as well. "Oh. It was weird... I saw Draco Malfoy at Hogwarts a few days ago. He said he had left the Death Eaters and he handed me my wand as a peace offering."

"Malfoy? Leave the Death Eaters?" Harry repeated in shock.

"That spineless ferret probably just jumped ship at the last moment because he thought the Death Eaters were going to lose," Ron spat out, stabbing a fork into his shepherd's pie.

"He said Bellatrix executed his mother for lying about Harry," Hermione said in the blond's defense.

"I wouldn't have made it out of there if Narcissa Malfoy hadn't lied," Harry admitted. "I didn't know she was killed."

"Me neither," Hermione said. "Anyway, Malfoy said he's talked to Professor McGonagall. He just wants to have nothing to do with the war anymore. He promised me he'd stay out of our way from now on."

Ron snorted. "Does he honestly expect us to just forgive and forget everything he's done for the last six years?"

"Actually, he said he didn't expect to be forgiven," she said somewhat sad at the thought that the once proud Draco had been reduced to someone that seemed so apathetic.

"He called you that insulting word too many times to count, he tried to kill Dumbledore, and he let Death Eaters into Hogwarts in our sixth year," Ron pointed out. "Surely he deserves some punishment for those things."

"It's not for us to decide his punishment," Hermione said neutrally.

"Well the Ministry's in shambles, so I don't know who is," Harry said.

"Has there been no one to replace Scrimegour yet?" Ron asked his father.

"No. Ordinarily, Pius Thicknesse would step in but he was found to have been under the Imperius curse. The Wizengamot would have selected another person to take the minister's position, but more than half of the Wizengamot have been hunted down so less than half are available to meet. Some have been killed in the war, and currently there is a vacuum of power in the Ministry," Arthur Weasley said gravely.

"Kingsley said he will take on the role of temporary minister until the Wizengamot finds time to convene again," Harry put in. "But being temporary minister means he has limited power, and he doesn't have the support of most of the wizarding world because when the war broke out, Kingsley was protecting the Muggle Prime Minister in between doing assignments for the Order, so most of the common wizarding folk don't know him that well."

"Well everything's a mess," Hermione commented.

"Which reminds me, Hermione, have you figured out why Voldemort wasn't killed yet?" Harry asked suddenly.

Hermione swallowed her food before opening her mouth. "When the killing curse rebounded on him, his body was weakened, but his soul did not cross over to the afterlife because there is still something anchoring him to this world. That's why he survived."

"You mean he has another horcrux?" Harry said.

"Soul magic is very complex and poorly researched," she said, remembering Tom's words. "I'm still looking into that."

Harry accepted her answer and went back to his lunch. Ron, however, wasn't done with Malfoy yet.

"Malfoy hasn't been bothering you at Hogwarts, has he?" he asked Hermione. "I don't like it having that git around you there at the school when you're alone."

"I'm not all alone there," Hermione said, thinking that Tom was with her most of the time. "And since giving me back my wand, he hasn't really spoken to me. He just nods at me when we cross paths, and Madam Pomfrey has put him to work making potions for the hospital wing."

"Make sure someone checks his work, he might be trying to sabotage the potions," Ron warned her.

"We've been using the stocks he has made since yesterday they all seem fine," Hermione said. She pushed her plate away from her, done with eating. "I think he had the right idea, just deciding to stay away from us. I believe him when he said he wants nothing to do with the Death Eaters now. I mean, they killed his mother. How can he stay with them when they treat his family like that?"

"Well his father is still there," Ron said. "Maybe he's just using his mother's death to gain some underserved sympathy."

Hermione shook her head. "You didn't see him, Ron. His eyes... they just look dead, like he doesn't care anymore. Sure, when we spoke, he tried to make it seem like he was all right, but if you really look at him, it's like he's given up on life."

"I'm just about ready to give up as well," Harry muttered, finishing his own plate.

"Harry, you can't say that," Hermione admonished him. "Things might look bad for now, but we will find a way through this."

Harry sighed, then flashed her a smile. "You're right, Hermione. Maybe we'll feel better after the Order meeting. At least I will feel like we will have another angle to work at again."

Harry was right. Two hours later, the Order of the Phoenix met at Grimmauld Place. The absence of Tonks and Lupin were felt, but with the rest of the members there they drew strength from each other. Seeing them all together again made Hermione feel that they were still very much on top of everything.

Kingsley had given them a brief update on the situation at the Ministry. It was as Arthur Weasley had said. The Wizengamot was still scattered, and Kingsley had presented himself as temporary minister, which would have been acceptable, except his appointment was blocked by Dolores Umbridge.

"It is unfortunate too that Dolores is a more popular face at the Ministry," Kingsley said heavily. "She presents something familiar to the people, so the remaining members of the Wizengamot supported her bid to be the temporary minister."

"What?" Harry asked, astounded. "But she was working against muggleborns, doing that muggleborn registry- And you, you fought against Voldemort, but the Wizengamot chose her over you?"

"Well, Dolores was in charge of the muggleborn registry, but she hasn't been linked to any acts of violence against muggleborns, so the public doesn't see her as doing something wrong," Kingsley explained. "And a few know that I did join the fight against Voldemort, but we haven't won the war yet so saying I am a member of the Order of the Phoenix does not really do much. If anything, the public does not appreciate that a huge battle took place at Hogwarts and that no resolution of the war has been achieved."

"What!" Ron exploded at this. "How can they say that, when they did not fight in the war anyway? Most of them just ran away or hid!"

"There is nothing we can do to change public opinion," Kingsley said. "You have to keep in mind that Voldemort's tactics did not always consist of torture and killing. He greased a few palms here and there, and promised good things to come for purebloods and half-bloods alike. In short, he showed no mercy to muggleborns, persecuting them, while extending a more benevolent hand to the half-bloods. As a result, many half-bloods have accepted him and are not willing to associate with muggleborns anymore."

He paused, then went on. "Because of the situation in the Ministry, we cannot count on their full support in going after the Death Eaters. However, I have contacted the Auror Division, and they are willing to increase patrols in public places in an effort to dissuade acts of violence. Dolores is another matter. She is tight with Lucius Malfoy and will not order a direct assault on Malfoy Manor, where we all know Voldemort is hiding. It is unfortunate that we have lost Severus. We now have no one to spy for us."

"Yes we do," Ron suddenly spoke up, straightening in his seat. "Hermione said that Draco Malfoy is at Hogwarts. If we can Imperius him to spy for us, we can still get some information on the Death Eaters!"

"No, that is a bad idea, they would know he is Imperiused," Hermione argued. "Besides, you can't ask him to do that, he's too young!"

"He's the same age as us, and we fought against Voldemort," Ron pointed out. "We can blackmail him, tell him that he will be absolved of his past crimes, if he will spy for us!"

"No," Hermione protested again, but her heart sank when she saw Kingsley's pensive expression.

"Minerva," he said slowly. "What did the Malfoy boy say to you?"

"He requested asylum," McGonagall said. "He said he did not want to go back to the Death Eaters after he lost his mother. Kinglsey, I would have to disagree with this idea. It would be a lot to ask of the Malfoy boy."

"He took the Dark Mark last year," Harry said. "It means he was willing to join this war. If he wants asylum, he should earn it."

Hermione looked at Harry disappointingly. "He was forced to take the Dark Mark, Harry, he didn't do it willingly."

"Hermione, I know it is a lot to ask him, but we need a spy on the Death Eaters," Harry said desperately. "The reason why we were able to keep up with the Death Eaters before was because Dumbledore had Snape to spy for him. This is a war, and sometimes we need to do terrible things. You and I have been forced to act on things ourselves, you know that. We should use this opportunity to take advantage of Malfoy."

"You can give him a choice on the matter," Hermione said firmly. "But I refuse to be a part of it if it involves blackmail or coercion. We should give him asylum whether he spies for us or not. We do not force people, that is what sets us apart from Voldemort. Free will, remember?"

Ron looked disgusted at this, but Harry was looking at Kingsley. "What do you think, Kingsley?"

"We will arrange for Draco Malfoy to spy for us," Kingsley said. "I will speak with him myself. Minerva, I think you should be present when I do so."

"Of course, Kingsley," McGonagall said. "When do you intend to speak with the boy?"

"In a week's time," Kingsley said. "I need to think about the circumstances as to how he did not return with the Death Eaters when the battle ended. We would have to fabricate a story on how he was kept prisoner before he manages to escape."

Hermione sighed. She knew Harry was right, sometimes they had to make sacrifices for the war effort, but she couldn't forget how hopeless Draco's face had looked when she saw him in the Great Hall two days ago. "Kingsley, I would like to be present when you talk to him as well," she said, ignoring the surprise on Ron's face. "He confided in me, he trusts me," she added, stretching the truth. "He might be easier to convince when I'm there."

Kingsley considered this and nodded. "Agreed. I will go to Hogwarts in a week's time."

The meeting was adjourned, and one by one the Order members filed out, leaving Harry, Ron, and Hermione alone at Grimmauld Place. Hermione sank back onto the couch and groaned, berating herself for being such a bleeding heart to care enough about the welfare of Draco Malfoy and Tom Riddle. If the Order had been so quick to expose Draco to the dangers of becoming spy for them, then it would be even easier for them to condemn Tom to death if it meant putting and end to Voldemort.

"Why are you so upset about Malfoy spying for us?" Ron asked. "It's like you care for him or something"

She threw him a sharp look. "I do. I mean, Ron, people aren't just pawns to use even during a war like this. If Draco doesn't want to spy for us then he shouldn't be forced to do so. I'm sure Harry wasn't elated when he discovered that Dumbledore actually knew that Harry had to die in order to defeat Voldemort."

"I wasn't pleased, but I was ready if it meant it would end the war," Harry said.

"You were willing," Hermione pointed out. "You can't expect Malfoy to be willing to go back to that den of snakes."

"We just have to twist his arm a bit," Ron said. "You said he trusts you, Hermione. You have to think of a way to make him do it."

Her temper flared up at this. "I didn't request to be present when Kingsley talked to him so I could twist his arm, Ronald. I wanted to be there to make sure he is treated fairly!"

"Oh Merlin," Ron muttered. "It's SPEW all over again. When will you realize that some people don't deserve to be saved?"

"It's S.P.E.W., not SPEW, and just because he treated us badly doesn't mean we should retaliate in kind," Hermione shot back. "It's that kind of attitude that perpetuates wars like this. If you keep thinking that way, then this fighting will never end!"

"Really, and you think if we treat Voldemort with kindness he will be willing to end the fighting?" Ron asked skeptically.

"I don't know. As far as I know, nobody has tried to be kind to him," Hermione said.

"Whoa, Hermione," Harry stepped in. "I think you're going too far. I don't object to treating Malfoy fairly, but you can't extend the same principle to Voldemort. There is not a shred of humanity in him, he won't know kindness when he sees it. Trust me, I've been in his mind too often for my liking. It's full of hatred and evil."

Hermione bit her lip, knowing that Harry had a point. "You're right about that," she said. "But what if he wasn't the psychopath that he is today? What if he was more like the Tom Riddle who went to Hogwarts years ago? He was more human then."

"He already did evil things back then," Harry said. "Tom Riddle is a lost cause, Hermione."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It was late morning the next day when Hermione returned to Hogwarts. She had planned to stay at the Burrow until tea time but Ron had been going on nonstop about Draco Malfoy and Harry was saying nothing to stop his tirade that it grated on her nerves. She told them she was needed at Hogwarts, and apparated to the school gates as soon as she grabbed her bag. Unknown to Harry, she had sneaked into his room to grab Draco's hawthorn wand in his drawer. She knew he hadn't been using it anymore, having his own wand back.

Hogwarts was a flurry of activity when she arrived. She waved at Neville as he was coming out of the greenhouses, and once inside the castle, she made her way to the dungeons where she knew Draco was brewing potions. Sure enough, the blond was busy with his knife and chopping board.

"Malfoy," Hermione said from the door.

Draco looked up. "Granger," he said coolly, resuming his work. "If Madam Pomfrey is asking why the potions aren't ready yet, tell her I ran out of some ingredients and had to run to the Forbidden Forest to get some."

"You went into the Forbidden Forest alone?" she asked skeptically.

"Nothing in there a former Death Eater couldn't handle," he said sarcastically.

"Stop calling yourself that," she chided him, coming closer. "Here." She thrust his hawthorn wand in his face.

He was surprised. "My wand? I doubt that Potter parted with it willingly." Nevertheless, he took it in his hand, and Hermione was rewarded with a tentative smile on his handsome face.

"He doesn't know I took it. I thought I'd give it to you back, as a thank you for giving me back my own wand," she said. "And as a gesture to say, also, that we just leave the bad things behind us and start over. I know you said you weren't asking for my forgiveness, but you have it anyway. We don't even have to talk about anything."

He considered her for a moment before nodding. "Thanks, Granger. And I'm no good at talking about things anyway, so that's that." He tucked the wand into his pocket and continued chopping beetroot. "Has the Order decided what they're going to do with me?"

Hermione's heart gave a lurch, but she forced down the dread in her stomach. "They know you're here. Kingsley is thinking things over." She paused. "It's not going to be easy, Draco."

"I didn't expect it to be, Hermione," he said, using her given name as well.

"Well, I hoped it would be," she admitted. "Do you need help?"

He shook his head. "I got this. If you're looking for something to do, I think they are going to start patching up the wall in the east side of the castle."

"I'll see," she said, pushing herself off the table she was leaning against. "Have you seen Tom-Marvolo?"

"Not this morning. Yesterday though I saw him heading off to the library."

Hermione nodded at him before leaving him back to his work. She went to the library to seek out Tom, and when she entered her favorite place in the school, she let out a gasp. When she had left the library yesterday, more than half of it was still in shambles. Now, it looked almost like it was restored to its former glory. The shelves have been repaired, the books back in their places, save for a few that were too damaged to put back. The damaged books were piled up in one corner. The tables and chairs have been repaired as well, and her favorite nook, at the west corner of the library, was back in order too.

She walked around the shelves until she found Tom leaning against a table, looking down at a book, his brow furrowed in thought. She had caught him in a rare unguarded moment, and in that instance, she thought that he looked very handsome. "Riddle," she said, her voice muted as if she was afraid Madam Pince was there to shush her.

Tom looked up and his face broke into a small smile when he saw her. "Hermione," he greeted her, putting the book down. "You are back earlier than planned?"

"Oh," she said, remembering why she had left The Burrow early. "Yes, well, I didn't want to stay at The Burrow any longer."

"Did something happen?" he asked, levitating the book back into its place on the shelf.

"No, not really," she said, looking around. "You did good with the place."

"It's my favorite place in Hogwarts," he said. "Well, after the Chamber of Secrets, of course. I was sorting through the books. Some of them are too damaged to put back on the shelves. You will have to ask your librarian what to do with them."

"What a waste," she murmured, looking at the pile of discarded books.

"What is bothering you?" he asked her.

"Nothing, really," she said. "Have you made any headway in your research?"

He was amused. "I practically restore your precious library to its rightful state and you grill me about research. You are a hard taskmaster, Miss Granger."

She blushed. "Sorry, I'm not pressuring you, and I did say I would help-"

"You are lucky I am brilliant enough to meet your expectations," he interrupted her. "Yes, I did find some things. Would you care to join me for a walk along the lake? I did spend too much time in the library already."

"Let's go," she said, adjusting her bag on her shoulder and hearing her things inside clang against each other.

Tom eyed her book bag quizzically. "Have you got your entire house in there?"

"A lot of stuff," she said. "Undetectable Extension Charm."

"Very useful," he said, reaching over to take the bag from her.

"No, it's not really heavy," she said.

He insisted, taking the strap from her, his fingers brushing against her shoulder. "I'm sure you put a Lightweight Charm as well. However, it's not so often that I get to be a gentleman, so please don't deny me."

"You certainly know how to put on the charm," she muttered.

"Charms were never a problem for me," he said easily, leading her out of the library. "But my forte really are the Dark Arts."

She snorted at his pun. "I didn't think the Dark Lord had a sense of humor."

"I don't know about this Dark Lord of yours, but I certainly had one back then. Not many people appreciated it, though. Sometimes I think my wit was too much over their heads. That, or I always came of being to sarcastic."

She continued to smile as she turned her face to the sun. She found it unusual that being with Draco Malfoy and Tom Riddle made her feel better than being with Harry and Ron back at Grimmauld Place. She supposed it was because Draco and Tom did not force her to think about the war. Draco was content brewing his potions, and Tom was putting all his efforts into the library, not even bringing up the war with her unless she wanted to talk about it.

It was when they were a good distance from the castle that Tom started to speak again. "I told you before, soul magic is poorly researched, and I must have gone through at least three books and all I got were theories. Some of them were not even worth considering, so I will not bore you with them."

"But you did find something," she said.

He nodded. "An eighteenth century wizard named Jocilore Fridium wrote about soulmates. Are you familiar with the concept?"

"Yes," she said. "In modern times, the term soulmates pertains to the romantic notion of two people being bonded together by fate, but before the romantic period, it actually means two people who choose to bond with each other, linking their souls to each other using blood magic, thereby linking two souls as one."

"It was primarily done to augment one another," he said. "Because the soul bond allows magic and life to flow from one person to another. It is considered to be unbreakable, except if both parties mutually agree to sever the bond, or one party kills the other."

"This means we are working with the premise that you and Voldemort are soulmates," Hermione said, seeing the logic in the assumption.

"It is the same framework. We share a soul, which is the same with soulmates," Tom said. "The beautiful thing about magic is that it is adaptable to one's purpose. I only need to modify the incantation to sever the bond when I kill him."

"You make it sound so simple," she commented as they stopped walking, having reached the edge of the lake.

"The complex thing to work out is how to get close enough for the kill," he went on nonchalantly. "I presume he is heavily protected now?"

"Yes," she answered. "But the Order is working on a plan to get a spy in on the Death Eaters." The corners of her mouth drooped as she remembered Kingsley's plan, and he caught the subtle change in her mood.

"You don't seem pleased with the idea?"

She bit her lip before deciding to tell him about the Order's plans for Draco Malfoy. When she was done, she shook her head. "It's a difficult thing to ask of him. Even if he was my enemy before, I can't force him to walk straight into danger like that."

"Perhaps you should give him more credit," Tom said. "The Malfoy family has always produced excellent wizards, and if Draco is anything like his grandfather, he is not weak. The fact that you say he was marked by Voldemort means that he is not entirely incompetent."

"I know Malfoy is competent," she admitted. "He's second in the year at school, and he is a Slytherin so I know he knows how to protect himself. But to come in as a spy, to move among those people..."

"He just needs to have a convincing act, and a good handle on Occlumency," Tom said.

"You're right," Hermione said. "I suppose the main reason why I am upset with the idea is about how quick they were to think of using him that way. It worries me how they will receive you."

"I would think they would be happy to have someone volunteering to kill Voldemort," Tom said.

"But the prophecy said that Harry was supposed to be the one to defeat him," she said.

He shook his head. "Prophecies only gain power when people believe in them. I am quite embarrassed that my other self has forgotten this fact and gotten himself half-killed trying to rid himself of a baby."

Hermione couldn't help but smile wryly at his dry sense of humor. "Well, he looks so different from you I'm sure people will not make the connection, so you have no need to be embarrassed about it."

They looked out over the lake in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. "I need some time to come up with an adaptation of the spell to sever the bond of soulmates. Perhaps a fortnight."

"There is no rush," Hermione said. "Kingsley Shacklebolt will be here in a week's time to talk to Draco, and I predict that it will take him longer than a fortnight to reintegrate himself within the Death Eaters, and it is only afterwards can we come up with a plan to get you close enough to Voldemort to be able to kill him."

"There is nothing much for me to do anyway, except to work on it."

She looked at him sideways, wondering how he must feel being cooped up in the castle the past several days. "Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me? I could use a butterbeer or two."

"I haven't exactly got galleons to spend, Hermione," he said honestly.

She rolled her eyes. "Come on. I was the one who invited you, so I'm paying. I've got manners as well. Besides, even if there is a war going on, the Death Eaters won't be mounting an attack any time soon so Hogsmeade will be safe."

"You don't have to worry about your safety, not while you're with me," he pointed out. He gestured towards the gate. "Fine. If you want a butterbeer, then I will go and keep you company."

They walked to the village at a leisurely pace, and Hermione took the opportunity to take in the scenery around her. There were less people out in the streets due to the war, but she saw that in spite of it there were sights to see that almost made her feel normal. There were people coming in and out of the shops, and some of them were standing out in the street having conversations.

The Three Broomsticks was half full when they arrived, some of the Hogsmeade residents out for a late lunch. Tom secured a table for them at a far corner as Hermione ordered them two butterbeers at the bar. Madam Rosmerta waved her money away when she tried to pay.

"Oh, dear, let me give you your first round of drinks for free," the matronly woman said. "As a thank you for driving the Death Eaters away from Hogwarts. Who is that young man you have with you?"

"Just someone who volunteered to help cleaning up Hogwarts," Hermione said noncommittally. "He has been working hard at the school for the past week so I thought I would treat him to a butterbeer today."

"He's a nice looking bloke," the witch said, giving Hermione a wink.

"Oh, I'm well aware of that," Hermione said, smiling. She took hold of the butterbeers and made her way to their table. "Here you go," she said, sliding a butterbeer towards her companion. "Madam Rosmerta didn't let me pay. She said it's a thank you for the work we did at Hogwarts."

Tom took the butterbeer and took a swig. "It tastes as good as I remember," he said, smiling faintly.

"Did you go to Hogsmeade often as a student?" she asked, curious.

"I did when I was prefect and head boy," he said. "But I didn't have galleons to spend back then, either, so everything was just business for me."

"How was it like before?" she said, resting her hands around her mug. "Can you tell me?"

"What do you want to know? Dumbledore probably told you everything already," he said, shrugging.

Her smile was sad. "Yes, and I don't think he was dishonest about it, but recent events have led me to believe that even Dumbledore saw things through tainted glasses. He meant well, I am sure of that, but..." She sighed. "He always spoke in riddles, and he was always vague about some things. I just thought, maybe, you could tell me about your time at Hogwarts yourself."

"There is nothing much to tell," he said. "You know I came from an orphanage where I was not really treated well. Too many magical accidents happening around me made everyone suspicious of me. Coming to Hogwarts was the best thing I thought could happen to me. Sure, I started out with practically nothing, but in a place where only intellect and magic mattered, I became very successful."

"How many N.E.W.T.S. did you have?" Hermione asked.

"Nine," he answered. "You?"

"I haven't taken them yet," she said. "This year was supposed to be my seventh year at Hogwarts, but I went with Harry and Ron to hunt for horcruxes."

"What did your parents say? About your not going back to school," he said.

"Oh, I plan to go back to school," she said. "When this war is over, I don't care if I'm twenty or thirty, but I'm going back to finish y seventh year so I can take the N.E.W.T.s. My parents are muggles, remember? They don't really know what is going on in the wizarding world. In fact, I sent them out of the country so they will not be touched by the war."

"They just agreed to go away?"

She fiddled with the serviette on the table. "Not exactly. I was a target of the Death Eaters, and I feared they would come after my parents, so I did an obliviating charm to remove any memories they have of me."

He studied her for a while. "So you made yourself an orphan."

She raised her glass to him in a mock salute. "Yes, that I am."

He clinked his glass against hers before they finished their butterbeers. "I don't regret doing it, though," she told him. "At least I don't have to worry about them. My friend, Ron, his family has sort of adopted me as one of their own so I'm not really alone."

"You seem to be pretty alone the past few days," he said. "These friends of yours... why do you stay away from them?"

"I'm not staying away from them," she protested. "Well, all right. Honestly, when you first found me in the library, I was hiding from Ron because during the battle at Hogwarts, we sort of... kissed. And he's been wanting to talk to me about it for days but I don't want to." She said the last words in a rush, wondering why she was confiding in Tom Riddle about her love life, of all things.

He made a small sound at the back of his throat, and she narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you mean by that?" she asked.

"What do I mean by what? I didn't say anything," he said.

"You made that funny noise," she insisted.

"Oh, I didn't mean anything by it," he said, waving his hand. "I have been wondering whether you had a bloke somewhere, and I just had my question answered."

She raised her eyebrow at him. "And why were you wondering that?"

"Because when you tell me about yourself, it's always about school and the things you did for the war. Yet the way you look out for me and for that Malfoy boy, even when we're not your friends really, show that you are caring and mindful of others. I found it odd that you never mentioned having anyone in that respect."

"I see," she said, accepting his explanation yet feeling an inexplicable smugness for having piqued Tom Riddle's interest in her romantic affairs, or lack thereof. _Not that I want him to be interested in me that way, Merlin forbid, but it would be nice to imagine having his attention... if I can forget that he is Voldemort's other self._

"What about you? Did you have anyone back then?" she chanced asking. She wanted to know, did Tom Riddle have the capacity to feel emotions other than anger or hate? "If you don't mind answering. It's the one thing I don't know about you."

His handsome face seemed to close off automatically, and his shoulders tensed for a second before he willfully relaxed his stance. "No, I never had anyone," he said flatly. "I think it is a waste of time for me."

"Oh, all right," she said, looking away from him, uncomfortable with the brief display of anger she had seen.

He was silent for a moment. Then he spoke, "Are you done here or do you want another butterbeer?"

"No, I'm good to go," she said, welcoming the change in topic.

He stood up with her, still carrying her book bag, and they left the pub. They walked in silence back to Hogwarts, and Hermione berated herself for asking Tom such a personal question that he chose to withdraw into himself. By the time they reached the entrance of the Great Hall, she was bursting to break the silence.

"I'm sorry, for asking something that upset you," she said as she took her book bag from him.

He waved his hand dismissively. "I'm not upset with you. You say you're the cleverest witch of your age, Hermione. You know I was born from a union that was only made possible because of Amortentia. I told you before, magic becomes powerful when it takes something back in return."

With that, he gave her a small nod before walking off in the direction she knew led to the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Hermione looked after him in wonder, and suddenly, she wanted to kick herself. She hurried to the library, pulling out a potions book and looking up Amortentia. In her sixth year days, it was the hype of almost all the girls because of the possibility of ensnaring their crushes, but most of them overlooked the footnote that came with the potion.

 _Offspring born from couplings made under the influence of Amortentia are incapable of love._

Hermione closed the book and bit her lip. Merope Gaunt had gotten her man with the help of Amortentia, but at the same time she had condemned her son to a life without love.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

A week passed by. Hermione still met Tom everyday for breakfast and she was careful not to ask him anything about his past anymore, something that he seemed to appreciate. He returned to being pleasant with her, sometimes even helping her with different tasks regarding the reconstruction of the castle when he wasn't holed up by himself in the library. Occasionally, she would run into Draco Malfoy, whose polite nods from before had grown into greetings of 'hey, Granger' which made her feel all the more guilty for knowing what the Order had in store for him.

It was the morning when Kingsley was due to come to Hogwarts to talk with Draco. After breakfast, Hermione turned to Tom apologetically. "Kingsley, the head of the Order, is supposed to come here today. I'm not sure if Harry and Ron will be coming with him, but I don't think it's a good idea for you to be seen."

A brief tensing of his jaw told her that he was not pleased with the idea of hiding. "I will be in the library," he told her. He bid her goodbye after he finished his breakfast, and Hermione pressed her lips together silently as she watched him go. She had come to enjoy his somewhat pleasant company, even though she knew he was being nice to her only because he needed her. Knowing the pending conversation between Kingsley and Draco brought the reality of the war back for her.

By the time she was summoned to McGonagall's office with Draco, she was already feeling morose. Hermione was not the least bit surprised at finding both Harry and Ron present with Kingsley, waiting for them. Her eyes wandered over to Draco, who had the sense to hide away his hawthorn wand after he realized that Harry was present. She gave him what she hoped was an encouraging nod as he stepped further into the room.

"Draco," Kingsley greeted him. "Hermione. Have a seat, both of you."

Hermione took an armchair for herself as Draco sat on a straight-backed chair in front of McGonagall's desk. "Mr. Shacklebolt, Professor McGonagall," Draco said in polite greeting.

"Draco, Minerva has told me that you requested asylum from the Death Eaters," Kingsley said.

Draco nodded. "I never returned to them after the battle at Hogwarts. I no longer wish to participate in their activities."

"Unfortunately, we cannot ignore your previous transgressions," Kingsley continued.

Draco paled at his words. "I- I understand, sir... If I can make up for those..."

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek. If only he knew what the Order wanted him to do to make up for his past misdeeds. She sighed audibly, and Draco's gray eyes flicked to her, realizing that she knew what was coming. She met his eyes compassionately, and almost imperceptibly shook her head.

"The Order is willing to look past everything you have done, for a price," Kingsley said. "As you know, we are all risking our lives in this war, and to take you under our wing involves risk as well. Also, when the war is over and the Ministry reviews your case, we have to give them proof that you have indeed forsaken the Death Eaters and Voldemort and you are no longer working for the dark side."

"What is it you require of me, then?" Draco asked, his voice dry.

"We need you to work as our spy, go back to the Death Eaters and gather information on their plans," Kingsley said bluntly.

Draco considered this. "What will happen to me if I don't?" he asked.

Ron exploded at this. "It's not like you have a choice, you git," he said forcefully. "You can't hide under the Order and expect to do nothing!"

Harry held up a hand to keep Ron from speaking further. "Ron, stop. Let Kingsley handle this."

Kingsley crossed his arms as he looked hard at Draco. "If you don't earn your keep, Draco, then the Order cannot promise to protect you. The Order is composed of people that make sacrifices for this war. Everyone needs to do their part."

"But I don't want to take part in this war anymore," Draco said pleadingly. Hermione pressed her lips together at his tone. Malfoys did not beg, but that was what Draco was doing at the moment.

"Neither do we, Malfoy, but we can't just sit back and let things get out of hand," Harry said, jumping in. His tone was more reasonable than Ron's as his green eyes trained themselves on Draco. "Snape was working as a spy for the Order, and he managed to help us a lot. If you do this, you can help us win the war. We both want this war to end. So did your mother, when she chose to lie for me. I know it's tempting to walk away, it's a lot easier, but we need to make some sacrifices for the greater good."

Draco's face crumpled at hearing about his mother's sacrifice again, and Hermione shot Harry a disapproving look. It was underhanded of him to use Draco's mother to attempt to convince him to turn spy. "It's a lot to ask, Draco, but we're not forcing you," Hermione said. "If you don't want to, you don't have to. The Order will help you escape-"

"The hell we will," Ron said.

"Well, I will," Hermione told him. "Harry, Ron and I, we choose to fight in this war. If you choose not to, then the Order cannot expend efforts in harboring you, not when they are in the middle of fighting a war, but I will think of a way to help you out."

Draco considered this as he turned to Kingsley. "You say that the only way my past crimes will be erased from the record is if I spy for the Order?" he asked.

"Yes, that is the deal," Kingsley answered.

"But I have been away from the Death Eaters for more than a week," Draco said. "I cannot just go back there and expect them to welcome me with open arms and no questions."

"You will say that you were held prisoner for a few days until you managed to escape," Kingsley said.

"They will use Legilimency or Veritaserum on me," Draco said.

Hermione took in a breath. "Are you considering this, Draco?" she asked.

He shrugged. "If I don't, I will be persecuted for being a Death Eater anyway. I just... I need to work out how I'm going to do this."

Hermione dropped her head into her hands and groaned. "I'll help you," she told him.

"Why you?" Ron asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Who made all the plans when we were running around the past year, Ron?"

Harry held up his hand. "Hermione, of course we will all help Malfoy."

"No, I got this," Hermione said, standing up. "Give me a couple of days to work out a plan on how to get Draco back into the Death Eater circle, and how to continue to communicate with him throughout the duration of this war. Draco, meet me outside when you're done talking with Kingsley, if he has anything more to say to you."

Ron looked livid. "When did Malfoy suddenly become Draco?"

Malfoy pushed off his chair to stand up, a smirk on his face. "Since I was born and my parents gave me the name, Weasel. Mr. Shacklebolt, I agree to your terms. However, the specifics of it I will work out with Hermione."

Kingsley looked surprised at this. "All right. You come and meet us when you have a course of action."

Hermione nodded and gestured for Draco to follow her outside. Once they were alone in the hallway, Draco lost his smirk, and she looked sideways at him. "You didn't have to agree, you know," she told him. "It's too dangerous."

"Of course I know it's dangerous," he snapped at her. Then he sighed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to take it out on you."

"Why did you agree?" she asked curiously.

He looked down at his feet. "If I chose to just run away, where would I go? I have nothing, Granger, except my name. If this war ends and you guys win, I want to be able to say the the Malfoy family did something right towards the end."

"You're not considering that Voldemort will win?"

"If he does, I won't be happy," he said. "Harry struck a nerve when he mentioned my mother. The dark side killed my mother, and I can't bear to be one of theirs anymore. If the dark side wins, I may as well die. Where are we going, anyway?"

"The library," Hermione said vaguely. Already, a plan was forming in her head.

"Are we going to research our way back to the Death Eaters?" he asked skeptically.

"Good to see a semblance of your old self coming back," she quipped.

He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not happy about it, but... Granger, I know you're smart. I trust you."

She stopped to look at him before she entered the library. "Oh, please don't say that. I don't need the pressure."

"Then why did you refuse Potter's help?"

"Because I'm not certain they have your best interests in mind," she said.

"And you do?"

"Well, maybe not your best interests," she admitted. "But I don't want you to come to harm. I don't think you deserve that."

"Oh," he said, embarrassed by her generosity as he followed her into the library. "I- thanks, Granger."

Hermione found Tom nestled in her favorite nook in the library. "Riddle," she said briskly. "Can we meet in the chamber of secrets?"

If Tom was surprised at her request, he didn't show it. He merely looked between her and Draco. "With him?" he asked, nodding towards Draco.

"Yes," Hermione said. "I need a room where people won't see us, and the Room of Requirement was destroyed in the battle. We need to be quick about it, too, before Harry comes looking for me."

Tom stood up, stretching his tall frame. "Follow me. But he better keep his mouth shut about all of this."

He strode out of the library, and Hermione followed him, yanking Draco by the arm. Draco shot her an uncertain look, and she reassured him. "I'm working on a plan, Draco, and he will be able to help us defeat Voldemort."

Tom led them to the girls' lavatory on the second floor, where he opened the entrance to the chamber of secrets with a quick hiss of Parseltongue. Draco froze upon hearing this, but he followed Hermione anyway when she stepped into the dark corridor before them. It was only when the door was shut behind them and they were bathed in the dim glow of torches that dotted the corridor leading into the main chamber that she started to speak.

"Harry's in the castle, and he has this map that shows the location of all the people in it. I'm afraid it would show you, Riddle," she said, meeting Tom's dark gaze. "Draco here has agreed to spy for the Order, which means that we will have information on the Death Eaters and their movements. This will allow us to know when it would be a good time to strike against Voldemort, and Draco can also help find a way to get you close enough to him."

"Wait," Draco said, holding up a hand. He turned to Hermione. "He is going to be the one to kill Voldemort? What about Potter and the prophecy?"

"You don't have to concern yourself with the prophecy," Hermione said. "When you go back to the Dark side, you will say that you have been captured during the battle of Hogwarts and were kept here because the Order wants to pump you for information regarding the Death Eaters. You will say that you escaped by overpowering someone... me, for example, and that is why it took you more than a week to get back to them. I know you can put on a good show, so you should be able to do it."

"They might use Legilimency or Veritaserum," Draco pointed out.

Tom stepped forward at this point. "Are you trained in Occlumency?" he asked.

"A little," Draco said. "But I cannot withstand the Dark Lord's Legilimency."

"If I help you on your shields, you should be fine in a week's time," Tom said, his voice quiet but confident. "As for the Veritaserum, it does not allow you to lie, but you can play with the words you choose to answer with so you can avoid telling the truth."

Hermione looked at Tom in relief. "I was hoping you would help," she said.

"I told you, Hermione, I want him dead and gone from this world as much as you do," he said simply. He walked towards one side of the chamber, stepping over the skeleton of the basilisk that was still there. "Come, it's more comfortable to talk in one of the rooms."

He led them to a room that opened at one end of the chamber. Hermione was surprised. When she was here with Ron last week, she had only seen the main chamber. Now she realized that there were doors along the sides, which led to different rooms. "I didn't know there were rooms here," she said.

"Salazar Slytherin made this chamber to serve as a refuge for his heir," Tom explained. "It has a bedroom, a small library, a potions room... and several other rooms that I have no use for. What, you think I sleep on the stone cold floor each night?" he asked with a smile.

"Well... yes," she admitted.

He chuckled as they stepped into a small sitting room. The air was chilly, and he pointed his wand to the fireplace and lit it, coaxing the flames into a gentle fire. "This is one of the rooms I have no use for. I'm not exactly keen on entertaining guests. As for anything else I can offer you..."

He snapped his fingers, and a house elf appeared in their midst. "Bring us a bottle of wine from the Hogwarts cellar," he instructed the elf. "And cheese and crackers, for three people."

The house elf gave a curt nod and disappeared with a loud pop. Hermione looked at him in amazement as she settled herself down into an armchair close to the fire. "You have house elves?"

"They are Hogwarts house elves. Oddly enough, they listen to my bidding. Perhaps it's another one of the privileges of being the Heir of Slytherin," he said.

At his words, Draco's head snapped up. "But the Dark Lord is the Heir of Slytherin," he said. His gaze switched from Tom to Hermione. "Granger, is there something you're not telling me?"

"This is Tom Riddle," Hermione said, nodding towards Tom. "Tom Riddle is the real name of Voldemort. Tom is part of Voldemort's soul, and I can't really explain the magic behind it, but Tom gained corporeal form when we destroyed two of his horcruxes in this chamber."

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "The Order doesn't know about him, do they," he said. "And neither do Potter and Weasel."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm afraid they would kill him on sight," she said. "Judging by the way they treated you, I might not be wrong."

Draco let out his breath in a laugh. "You sneaky little girl. You were gauging their reaction to me to see how they would react to this Tom Riddle. That's why you're helping me. You feel guilty."

"Yes, but I also don't want you to die, I told you that," Hermione said honestly.

Draco shook his head. "Granger, do you always need to save everybody?"

"If I can," she answered. "Now, Draco, you mustn't tell the Order about Tom. The reason Voldemort didn't die was because his soul was anchored to this world through his bond with Tom. While Tom is alive, Voldemort cannot die. That bond between their souls must be severed before Voldemort can be disposed of, and to do that, Tom must be the one to kill him."

Draco ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I get the idea, Granger. Are you ever going to tell the Order about this, though?"

"I plan to tell them when we're ready to go after Voldemort," Hermione said. "Tom still needs to work on that spell to cut the soul bond."

It was obvious that Draco had more to say on the matter, but he kept his lips pressed tightly together now that he knew the young man sitting across from him was the Dark Lord. Tom seemed to find it amusing as he crossed his legs, tenting his fingers so her could rest his chin on them as he fixed a calculating gaze on the blond. Hermione thought he looked more like Voldemort when he sat that way, and she knew that Tom was playing with Draco.

"Stop intimidating him, Riddle," she said to Tom.

"I'm not," Tom said. "I haven't even said anything. Please, speak freely, Draco. You are safe here. I do not allow harm to come to my guests."

"Considering that you let Granger get tortured when she was held captive, I find that hard to believe," Draco said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Considering that it happened in Malfoy Manor, Draco, I was technically your guest."

Tom chuckled at this. "Now, I find that amusing. Let's get back to the matter at hand. My other self will not be so trusting to just take you in for your word. No doubt he will use Legilimency on you, so I will help you get your shields up. However, simply putting up shields will only make him suspicious that you are hiding something, so you need to give him some memories to see. The idea is to compartmentalize your mind. You build shields around those thoughts you want to keep hidden, and you allow him to see only what you want him to see."

"That sounds like a lot of work to accomplish within a week," Draco said doubtfully.

"Oh, I can be a difficult taskmaster but I assure you, I know how to get results," Tom said. "As for false memories, Hermione has experience with those, and she can help you with that."

"You also have to offer something to the Death Eaters, something worthwhile," Hermione said. "I'm going to talk to Kingsley, get his approval on it, but I think you can offer the location of the Order's headquarters. Also, we have Bellatrix's wand. You can take it back to her, tell them you got it back when you overpowered me in your escape."

"And how will I communicate with the Order once I get back with the Death Eaters?"

Hermione gave him a tentative smile. "You were always known to be a ladies man, Draco. Once in a while, you slip out to... ah, have some fun on the side. I will be your contact, we will meet somewhere while I am under the Polyjuice potion."

Draco smirked. "Does this mean I get to take you to a room and have my way with you, Granger?"

"Only if you're dreaming, Malfoy," she retorted.

"Oh, yes, I do have some excellent dreams," he said, raising his eyebrows at her suggestively.

"It's nice to see you've recovered enough to start thinking of such pleasures again," she said, scowling at him.

"If I'm going to do all that cloak and dagger stuff, I might as well have some fun," he replied.

"Well, not with me, you aren't," she said, rolling her eyes. "Wipe that smirk off your face."

"Leave him with me," Tom said. "He won't be smirking then."

Draco's face immediately turned serious, and Hermione looked at Tom warningly. "Riddle..."

"I'll whip him up into shape," Tom said. "Besides, if he was being held prisoner the past week, he shouldn't be looking so smug."

"Granger..." Draco said to her in apprehension.

Hermione waved her hand. "Draco, it'll be fine. He won't kill you, he needs you. I need to go back upstairs to talk some more with Kingsley."

Tom stood up as well. "I'll open the door for you," he said. "Don't worry about the Malfoy boy. You'll see him again later at dinner time."

* * *

True to his word, Tom released Draco by dinner time. Hermione met with the blond in the dining hall, when he slid into the seat in front of her and helped himself to a plate of pasta. Hermione looked at him, noting that he looked exhausted but otherwise unharmed. "How was it?" she asked him.

Draco swallowed his food before replying. "He's a good teacher," he said. "I wasn't expecting it. I always knew the dark lord was a formidable wizard, but it was weird seeing him in a young body without the crazy fits. I still think it's crazy, though, the way you're keeping him a secret from the Order."

"You think it's a bad idea?" she asked, grateful that she could at least discuss the matter with someone who was not automatically going into tirades against Voldemort.

He shrugged. "He's helping us get rid of the dark lord, but after that, what are his plans? Does he intend to take Voldemort's place, with them actually being the same person and all?"

"I asked him about that before, but he seemed unsure at that time," she admitted. "Of course I've thought about it, if we're just replacing one dark lord with another, but the more I spend time with him, the more I feel that he is indeed the lesser evil. I'm thinking that we'll just cross that bridge when we get there. Anyway we can't kill either of them while the other one is still around."

"Don't forget, the dark lord always lets you see what he wants you to see. He's Slytherin to the core, Granger. His manipulations wouldn't exactly be obvious."

"I'm not an idiot, Draco, I know that," she said. "But because he exists, the Order can't kill Voldemort off completely."

"Then why are you keeping him from the Order?" Draco asked.

"Because I know how the Order will take the news," she admitted. "I want to tell them about Tom when we already have a plan in place to dispose of Voldemort."

"The Order will still want Tom to be dealt with," Draco said. "Especially Potter. Granger, Tom Riddle and Voldemort are from the same soul. Don't be a bleeding heart just because this one is intelligent and has a nose. Why don't you go spend a few days with Potter and the Weasel? A few days away from Tom."

She mulled this over. "You mean for me to get some perspective from a distance?"

He nodded, unable to speak for his mouth was full.

Hermione sighed, looking away. "Whenever I'm with Harry and Ron and the rest of the Order… they make the war so real. I'm so weary of it to the point of depression. Tom is a respite from it all, which is ironic considering who he really is. He doesn't talk about the war. He talks about magic and magical theory and it fascinates me. I want to be done with this war, and maybe attacking Voldemort and the Death Eaters head on is not the solution. You're a Slytherin, Draco. Surely you think a roundabout way of doing it is worth a shot?"

"Yes, but aren't you going around it too much?" he asked.

"I suppose I am," she said. "But I prefer to keep Tom Riddle under my watch rather than leave him to his own devices. Besides, you've been with him. You really think the Order will be able to kill him?"

"Only if the Order is lucky," Draco said. "I suppose only Voldemort can only be matched by his own self… we just hope that the better part of his soul wins."

"That's what I'm hoping for," she said. "What happens after that… I'm not sure yet. Where is he, anyway?"

"He went off to the library as I was going here," Draco answered. "With the amount of time he spends there, I think you've found your soulmate, Granger."

"He already has a soulmate... his own self," Hermione said, giving him a dirty look.

"So do you think this is a better version of the dark lord because he's got a larger portion of his soul in him?" Draco asked.

"I never really thought of the other Voldemort as human. You've seen what he looks like," Hermione said.

"Yeah, and I see how this one looks like," Draco said, eyeing her. "We may not have been friends, Granger, but I've known you for six years. I hope you're not setting up your heart for a disappointment."

"Then you should know, Draco, that I am not won over by simple good looks," she said, brushing off his insinuation that she might be interested in Tom Riddle.

"You aren't," he agreed. "But this one is also undeniably intelligent and engaging, and I'm sure that gets to you more."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The week passed by steadily, and Draco spent most of his waking hours with Tom. Since Harry was no longer around Hogwarts, Tom did not need to confine himself anymore in the chamber of secrets. He chose different places all around the castle and its grounds for his lessons with Draco, and since Hermione did not take part in his tutelage, she found herself mostly alone with a lot of time on her hands. She was surprised to feel a little envious whenever she saw Draco walking off after Tom. Each night, when she met Draco for dinner, she could practically feel his exhaustion, but she also saw that he had regained some confidence in himself and she knew that Tom was teaching him more than just Occlumency. He was also teaching Draco how to maneuver among the Death Eaters. She wondered what she would have gained if she had taken Tom up on his offer to teach her before.

Hermione spent her free time finishing up the repairs on the castle. The hospital wing was almost empty now, most of its patients either transferred to St. Mungo's or sent home recovered. The library was completely restored and the dorms and classrooms were ready for use once the school reopened for the students within three months.

Having nothing left to do, with both Tom and Draco being absent at dinner time, Hermione decided to go bed early. Her room at the Gryffindor tower was empty, with no one else staying during the summer. She waved to Neville, who was in the common room writing a letter to his gran, before she headed up to her room. Her trunk was there, with her old school books, but she rarely opened it now since most of her needs were in her handy book bag with the extension charm.

She got out her journal and quill, lying belly flat on her bed. She had started the journal when she was in third year, when she wanted to write about the delights of using the Time Turner. She had written in it sparingly the past year, not having enough time to sit and write while running from Death Eaters and hunting horcruxes. Since the battle at Hogwarts more than two weeks ago, she had not opened it either, mainly because her thoughts and feelings were disorganized and she did not know how to start writing them down. In retrospect she should not have put it off, for now she had even more things to write about than before.

She had just touched the tip of her quill to the paper when a voice interrupted her.

"Hermione."

She jerked around on her bed, upsetting the ink bottle. "Goodness! Riddle! You surprised me. How did you even get up here?"

He stepped into her room and waved his hand at the ink spill, gathering up the ink and placing it back inside the bottle. "Apparently, when you fixed the dormitories, you forgot the charm that turns the stairs into a slide when boys attempt to climb it."

She huffed. "I wasn't the one who fixed it, it was Neville Longbottom."

He sat down on her bed, looking at her journal. "You keep a journal, too?"

"Yes, but it's been a while since I wrote in it," she said, shutting the book and setting it aside.

"I shouldn't have interrupted you, then," he said, motioning as if to go, but she stopped him.

"No, stay," she said hurriedly. "We haven't really talked much lately."

He settled back down on the edge of her bed. "Ah, yes. With all my efforts to tutor Draco, I realize now that I have been neglecting you."

She sat up, fixing her skirt, which had ridden up her leg. "It's okay, I don't need minding. I actually got a lot of work done on the castle while Draco was off with you."

"He's ready," Tom said. "You can plant false memories in his mind now, he knows how to work his shields properly."

"You were right, he did manage to learn it in a week," she said, impressed.

"I had to push him hard many times, and it would not have worked had he not been gifted with some natural occlumens tendencies," Tom admitted. He handed her Bellatrix's wand. "You said he would need this to give back to that aunt of his. She was the one who tortured you? I saw the beginning of your memory when I looked into your mind before."

Hermione nodded. "When you offered to each me Occlumency..." she began.

"The offer still stands," he said. "Although for the sake of the war I think you should also consider brushing up on your dueling skills. I noticed, when I viewed your memory of the battle at Hogwarts, that you are a decent duelist but your spellwork and casting need refining."

"I'm one of the best in my year," she protested, feeling a little insulted.

"I said you're decent," he said. "But when you fought in that battle, you were firing off hexes and curses randomly, relying on your speed in casting to get your opponent. When you cast a single curse, the incantation is accompanied by a specific wand movement." He waved his arm in a motion that resembled the casting of the blasting curse. "However when you consider the list of hexes and curses at your arsenal, you will find that some of them work well in succession, with the motions of one curse flowing into the motions for the next. You can string along six or seven curses in such a manner, allowing you to duel more fluidly, eliminating time in between spells. This is how great duelists are defined, and they keep modifying their succession technique to keep their dueling style unpredictable."

"It makes sense," Hermione murmured.

"I can practice with you," he said. "Once Draco is gone. It would be good preparation for you if you are to continue fighting in this war."

"I'd like that," she said eagerly, grabbing the chance to duel with someone she knew was better than her. "But... you aren't going to kill me when we duel, are you?"

He chuckled. "Now, Hermione, how are you going to fight against me at your best if you are sure I wouldn't hurt you?"

* * *

A few days later and Kingsley had declared that it was time for Draco to go back to the Death Eaters. Hermione had finished planting false memories in his mind, and he had Bellatrix's wand in his pocket. She had also convinced Kingsley to let Draco give up the location of Grimmauld Place as the Order headquarters to further solidify his worth to the Death Eaters. Harry was reluctant to agree to it, but Hermione merely threw the 'sacrifice for the greater good' phrase into his face to change his mind. The Order would be shifting their headquarters to the Burrow temporarily, which Mrs. Weasley welcomed as it gave her more reason to have her children spend more time at home.

"You're all set, I suppose," Hermione said, running her eyes over Draco. She thought it was a good thing that Tom had been running him ragged during his mentoring sessions, as Draco had an almost perpetually wan look about him the past several days. He was also sporting some bruises, which Harry noticed.

"Where did your bruises come from?" Harry asked Draco.

They came from when he was writhing on the floor under Tom's Cruciatus curse, which he often cast when he attempted to shake Draco's Occlumency shields before casting Legilimency. Draco shrugged. "Glamour charms from Hermione," he said.

Hermione nodded. "Well, good luck, Draco. I'll be seeing you a week from now, as we agreed."

"At the Leaky Cauldron," Draco confirmed. He gave her a wink. "Wear something nice, Granger."

"We should have him swear with an Unbreakable Vow," Ron said. "That he will not betray the Order."

"That's not necessary," Hermione said, knowing from Tom that Draco held no intentions of betraying them.

"But Hermione," Ron protested.

"Ron, I'm tired of hearing you go on endlessly about Draco betraying us and all that," Hermione said, fighting to keep her voice even. "He is putting his life on the line for the sake of the Order now, so stop thinking of him as the enemy from now on."

Harry stepped forward, offering a hand to a surprised Draco. "Good luck, Malfoy."

Draco shook his hand stiffly. "Yeah. See you next week, Granger."

Hermione, Ron and Harry watched him as he walked to the gates to apparate. After he had gone, Harry turned to Hermione. "Fancy a drink at the Three Broomsticks? I feel like it's been ages since the three of us were together."

"Sure," Hermione said.

The three of them walked to Hogsmeade, and found themselves a table at the pub. Harry got them their first round of butterbeer, and when he slid Hermione to hers, he flashed her a look. "Hermione, Madam Rosmerta said she's seen you here with a bloke the other day?"

"Oh, yeah, one of the volunteers that worked at Hogwarts invited me for a drink," she said nonchalantly, the lie coming easily to her.

"So that's what's keeping you busy," Ron commented sourly.

Hermione shifted in her seat. Of course Ron was feeling bad that she had been purposely avoiding him since the battle, but she also felt indignant at his tone. "It was just an afternoon out. We've been really busy at Hogwarts," she said.

"But now that the castle is completely repaired and most of the patients in the hospital wing are gone, aren't you going to stay at the Burrow?" Harry asked.

"I'm thinking of asking Professor McGonagall if I could stay on at Hogwarts," she said. "Staying at the Burrow would be fine, but with it being used as the Order's temporary headquarters, I expect it to be very busy. I don't want to spend every single day watching people coming and going."

"I know what you mean," Harry said. "Ron and I could stay with you at Hogwarts."

"Mum's not going to like that," Ron said. "With Fred gone, she wants us kids around as much as possible."

"I can come down on weekends to stay at the Burrow," Hermione conceded. "I will be meeting Draco every Saturday night anyway, so the Order can have meetings on Saturday and Sunday to consolidate whatever intel we might get."

"So when exactly did you and Malfoy become friends?" Ron asked.

Hermione shrugged. "We're not exactly friends, Ron. We both just decided to leave the past behind us. I know he was terribly awful to us back at Hogwarts, but what good would it do to hold on to that when there are more important things to focus on now?"

"I feel the same way," Harry said. "Our main focus now is to deal with Voldemort. I do feel guilty that Malfoy lost his mother because she lied for me."

"I guess I can work with that if I think of it that way," Ron said grudgingly. "It's just that... Hermione, I can't believe that you spent more time with Malfoy at Hogwarts this past week than with us."

"I wasn't really spending time with Malfoy, apart from those times we had to work on the plan for the infiltration of the Death Eaters," she said patiently. "But I do miss talking with you both about things other than this war."

"There's not much to talk about," Harry said. "The Ministry is under Dolores Umbridge. As to their stance against Voldemort, they claim that they are sending teams of Aurors to look for him, but Umbridge does not want to prosecute any of the Death Eaters implicated in the Hogwarts attacks because most of them come from pureblood families unless there is solid evidence against them, and most of the Death Eaters that were at the Hogwarts battle were wearing masks. The only one proudly showing her face was Bellatrix Lestrange, so a team of Aurors went to her house but no one was there."

"Of course we know she's staying at the Malfoy Manor," Ron scoffed. "That witch is so attached to Voldemort, I think they're having an affair."

Hermione shuddered at the thought. "That is disgusting," she commented.

"Well, I know for a fact that Voldemort was quite handsome when he was younger," Harry said. "Which makes me wonder why he didn't use that to his advantage when he was rising to power. I mean, he could have accomplished so much more with a face like Tom Riddle's than that snake face he has on now. Hermione, you're a girl. You know what I mean, right?"

Hermione took a drink of her butterbeer, considering what Harry was saying. Personally, she found Tom's intelligence and raw magic power more attractive than his physical features, but having a handsome face was never a disadvantage for anyone. "I think Voldemort could have done better if he did not have such a hard stance against Muggleborns. He desired acquire power and immortality, but he could have made himself more acceptable to all of the wizarding world if he hadn't started killing Muggleborns with such prejudice."

"But he did, and that is why a lot of people are resisting him," Harry said. "But even if there is resistance, he still lives. The wizarding world has never really gotten rid of him." He dropped his head in his hands and groaned.

"Do you think," Hermione said slowly, "if there is a chance and he sees his miscalculations... Do you think he might want to change the way he did some things?"

"He would have to admit first that going after Harry when he was a baby was a mistake," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "That was when things started going downhill for him."

"Maybe now he sees that as a mistake," Hermione said.

"No," Harry said. "He believes in that prophecy."

"He only made it come to pass because he acted on it," she said. "I have always said that Divination is a poor science, if it is science at all. Prophecies are ambiguous and are subject to numerous interpretations. That is why I like Arithmancy better. At least it's a real science, and you can actually see the proof."

"Trust you to prefer the exact subject of Arithmancy over Divination," Harry teased her. "Unfortunately, Hermione, not everything can be as simple as classifying them into being black or white."

She raised her eyebrows at this. Harry was saying the exact same thing as Tom. "What do you mean by that?" she asked him.

Harry shrugged. "I'm just saying that some things don't exactly fall into specific categories. I've been thinking about it a lot ever since we cooked up that idea about sending Malfoy as a spy. Ordinarily, it would be horrible to send in someone so young, but the circumstances call for it. It's the same thing when Dumbledore set us on the path to destroy horcruxes. We were all supposed to be in school then, but it had to be done because it was necessary."

"I'm starting to hate hearing the phrase 'for the greater good'," Hermione muttered, finishing her butterbeer. "A lot of things can be done for the sake of the greater good, and each side of this war can claim that they are fighting for the greater good. As long as both sides are not willing to compromise, this war will just go on and on until none of us are left."

"You expect Voldemort to be willing to compromise?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Let's just say, very hypothetically, that he is," Hermione said. "Would you listen, Harry?"

Harry laughed. "Hypothetically, yes, I will."

* * *

It was a Wednesday, and Hermione was sitting at the Quidditch pitch taking advantage of a sunny day with a flask of coffee and a book, when Tom found her.

"Join me," she said, patting the grass next to her. "I haven't seen you since yesterday morning."

"I was roaming the castle," he said, obliging her and taking a seat. "With everyone else gone for the summer and only the caretakers around, I did not have to worry about being seen by anyone. I'm surprised though, that you stayed on."

"I have nowhere else to go, except the Burrow, and I didn't want to stay there," she said, glossing over the fact that she did not want to leave him all alone at Hogwarts either. "I asked special permission from Professor McGonagall to stay."

"And she allowed you? I wish the school had been that accommodating when I asked to stay over the summer before," he said.

"I'm a war heroine," she said simply. "After everything I have done, I figured asking to stay at Hogwarts was a small favor to ask, and Professor McGonagall cannot deny me."

"It must be nice, being the teacher's pet."

"But you were one as well, weren't you? Except for Dumbledore," she said.

"Yes, but Dumbledore and I openly disliked each other so even if the other teachers thought I was brilliant, it meant nothing more than good grades and getting invited to Slughorn's special club," he said.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked.

"I believe you just did," he said, raising an eyebrow at her.

She hesitated, remembering how displeased he was when she asked about his past before. "It's about your past. I'm curious."

He was cool when he shrugged. "Ask your question. I may or may not answer it, though."

"It was Dumbledore who took you into Hogwarts," she said. "Considering that it was magic that changed your life, I would have thought that you would have liked him more than the other teachers. Why did you dislike him? Was it because he was suspicious of you right at the start?"

He thought about it for a long time, and he used the time to settle himself down on the grass such that he was lying flat, an arm tucked under his head as a pillow. It was supposed to be a relaxed pose, but the way he held his jaw told Hermione that he was anything but.

"Dumbledore wasn't suspicious of me right at the start," he told her. "When I started at Hogwarts and realized that I had a lot of potential magically, he actually tried to mentor me more than the other students. However, after several months, we found that we disagreed on some principles, so I distanced myself from him and continued to study on my own, subject matter that was beyond the school's curriculum. I was in my third year when I began to learn about the dark arts, and by then Dumbledore had it in his head that I was up to no good."

"What did you disagree on?" she asked, taking advantage that he was openly talking to her.

"He always said that love was the greatest power there is," Tom said flatly. "I wanted to be the best, but hearing him say that... You already know the effects of Amortentia. Can you imagine how I felt when he basically implied that I could never have power as great as that, simply because of the circumstances of my birth? Of course I had to turn to other forms of magic. It's like saying you could never be a great witch because of your blood."

"I wish you- or Voldemort- hadn't spread that muggleborn prejudice so widely," Hermione said, sighing.

"But do you not feel the same?" he asked curiously. "Did you not make that extra effort in school because you wanted to show everyone that you can be the best even if you weren't born into this world? The reason that drove me to study higher magic was because I wanted to still be the best, in spite of being told that I cannot harness the greatest power of all. Besides, Dumbledore was mistaken. I have become the best, even without the so-called power of love."

Hermione was silent, and he tilted his head to look at her. "You believe him, don't you? You believe love is a great power."

"Yes," she said firmly. "And the best example I can give you is when Harry's mother gave up her life to protect him."

"Well, that is certainly something I could never have," he said.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Who would ever love someone who couldn't love them back?"

"But that is where you're mistaken," she said. "Love, the real kind, is given freely as a gift, without expecting anything back."

"Would you love someone who couldn't love you back?" he asked. "It is in human nature to always expect something in return."

"I don't know," she admitted. "I love Harry and Ron a great deal, but I know that they love me back. We weren't friends right away when we first met, though. Ron thought I was a stuck up know-it-all. We only became friends when I covered up for them after we defeated a mountain troll in our first year."

"Were you a stuck up know-it-all?" he asked.

She huffed. "No. I just appeared to have the correct answer to everything."

He sat up and smiled. "Had your hand up in the air to answer every question in class, didn't you?"

"Of course. I was top of the class in almost every subject."

"Almost?"

"Harry got top marks in Defense and I walked out of Divination because it's a load of rubbbish," she told him.

He laughed at this. "I can't do anything about Divination, but I can help you with DADA," he said, standing up and holding his hand out to her. "Come. I did say I would teach you how to duel properly once Draco has gone."

She allowed him to help her up. "I do know how to duel properly," she said, incensed.

"Let's see, shall we?" he said, stepping away from her and giving her the perfunctory bow.

"You don't even have a wand," she said, taking her wand from her sleeve.

He didn't reply verbally, but he sent her a quick blasting curse. Hermione automatically cast a Protego, which barely managed to deflect his curse. "I won't be needing a wand, if I'm just here to teach you and not kill you," he said.

He attacked again, this time casting three curses in succession. Hermione's shield charm deflected his Reducto and his Incendio, but her shield gave way after the second spell, allowing the Stupefy to hit her. Hermione started to fall to the ground, but Tom waved his hand and released her from the stunning spell and cast a cushioning charm in time to prevent her from falling on her face on the hard ground.

"You're holding back because I have no wand," he said, sounding almost disappointed. "Come on, Hermione. Remember, I'm Voldemort and you want to kill me."

Hermione got back to her feet, still reluctant to attack an unarmed man, but his next taunt did it for her.

"I can't believe Draco Malfoy has got more fire than you."

She hissed at him, not appreciating being compared to Draco, and waved her wand in a graceful arc. " _Avis! Oppungo!_ " A flock of birds shot out from the tip of her wand and rushed to attack Tom, but he waved his hand almost lazily and turned the birds into harmless feathers that flew past him in the wind. Hermione didn't stop there. She cast two curses in quick succession. " _Reducto! Confringo!_ "

Tom conjured a shielding charm that absorbed her hexes. "Better," he said. "Although remember what I said about wand movement. Confringo usually works better after Reducto."

Hermione considered this, waving her wand in the motion of the two curses as she played it out in her mind. He stepped towards her, holding up his hand to tell her he wasn't expecting an attack. "You flick your wand too much when you do the Reducto," he said, taking her wand from her and showing her how she did it. "The curse would get more power if you channel it like this." He showed her the better way to do it before handing her wand back to her.

She shook her head, pushing the wand into his hand. "Show me how you do it," she said.

He took a few paces away from her and fired several curses in quick order, to fast for her to see what each individual curse was except for the Impedimenta at the start. She marveled at his fluid wandwork, and the elegant way that he held her wand in his hand. He turned back to her, catching the admiration on her face.

"I'm nowhere near as skilled as that," she said.

"You just need some refinement," he said, giving her wand back to her.

"Why again are you teaching me this?" she asked.

"I saw your memory of the battle at Hogwarts," he said. "You have potential for great things, and I actually like our interactions together."

Hermione looked away to hide the pleasure that was creeping onto her face at his words. She was starting to like her interactions with him, too.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

It was Saturday morning, and Hermione was at the Burrow, waiting for Kingsley to arrive for the Order meeting. She was partly reluctant leaving Hogwarts and Tom behind. The past two days had given her the kind of relaxed freedom that she did not have during the past year. She spent every waking hour with Tom, walking the empty halls of the castle with him. Meal times were spent in the Hogwarts kitchens instead of the Great Hall, where she discovered that he had a fondness for hot chocolate laced with cinnamon.

Their dueling practices were done in the chamber of secrets, where Tom said the walls were sturdy enough to resist blasting curses. He had grown comfortable enough to stand close behind her as he guided her wand motions, violating the personal space he liked to set for himself. She had grown comfortable with him as well, not even minding when he had cut her left arm with a slicing hex that she had been unable to deflect.

Hermione stood in Ginny's room, fingering the scar that the hex had left. She bit her lip at the memory of Tom's apologetic face when he cut open her arm, and she warmed at the thought of his fingers applying a salve over the wound to prevent long-term scarring. She was embarrassed to think that she had enjoyed that moment more than she should have.

She heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and knowing it to be Ron by its cadence, she pulled her sleeve down before he opened the door.

"Mione," he greeted her, bounding to her side to give her a warm hug. "It's good to see you here. How are you?"

"I'm good, Ron," she said. "Is Kingsley here yet?"

"He sent a Patronus, saying he'll be here in half an hour," Ron said, looking around Ginny's small room. "Er... I really missed you. This house may be full of people, but it's different not having you around."

"I missed you all too," she said, trying to be generic about it, although to be honest she hadn't thought about either Ron or Harry the past few days.

"I'm worried about you, staying at Hogwarts alone all this time," Ron said, a hand lingering at her elbow. "I'm going to ask Mum if she will be okay with Harry and me staying with you there a few days next week."

"Ron, honestly, I'm fine at Hogwarts," Hermione said. "It's one of the safest places with the wards set back up. Besides, I like the solitude of it for once. I have to admit that spending the last months in a small tent has left me wanting to have some privacy for myself for a while, and I hope you respect that."

"I do," he insisted. "But I feel like you're pulling away from me. I know we haven't really talked about it, maybe it makes you uncomfortable, but what about what happened between us in the chamber of secrets?"

She wrapped a comforting hand around his arm. "It's something even I haven't really thought about," she admitted. "I am at a point in my life when I'm still figuring out what I want."

"But I thought you liked me?" he asked, a note of hurt entering his voice.

"I do," she said, cursing herself for getting into this situation. "I think you're kind, and funny, and you always have a way of making me laugh. Maybe if we were normal teenagers, we could actually go somewhere with this, but not right now. Not in the middle of this war. I don't even feel normal anymore, Ron. I can't remember the last time I laughed."

"Just because we're in the middle of a bloody war doesn't mean you have to put other things of your life on hold, Mione," he said. "Look at Harry and Ginny. Initially Harry thought he was going to leave Ginny behind until this war is over, but now they just appreciate the time they have together."

"It's good that they have that," she said sincerely. "But I can't, not for myself, Ron. Please let's let it go for now, you cannot force me to change my mind. This war, it's affecting me more than it shows."

His brow furrowed as he cupped her elbow, his thumb moving in small circles around her arm in an effort to comfort her but which only set her more on edge. "What do you mean, it's affecting you?"

She sighed, gently pulling her elbow from his grip. "Sometimes I wonder if what we do is right. I know we're fighting for the light, but I didn't like how we practically forced Draco to go back to the Death Eaters. I am starting to wonder if Dumbledore was right in setting us on the path of horcrux hunting. Why us? Why not someone else? We're not even official members of the Order when he gave us the horcrux job, we were just bloody sixth year students! Why didn't he send Remus, or Kingsley, or Tonks?"

"Because the prophecy said that it is Harry who will defeat Voldemort," Ron said.

"Maybe so, but he didn't have to follow that prophecy," Hermione said. "Now we are stuck right in the middle of this war."

"And that is why we must do whatever it takes to end this," Ron said. "Including using Malfoy."

"Whatever it takes," she murmured. She rubbed her arm. "I've done everything I could to make sure Draco is as safe as he can be."

"Hermione, you're brilliant. If you were the one who prepared Malfoy for his work on the Death Eaters, Malfoy should be all right," Ron assured her.

Hermione said nothing, for Tom was the one who was more involved with Draco's conditioning. Fortunately, they heard the door chimes from downstairs ring, signifying the arrival of Kingsley. "Come on, let's meet Kingsley," Hermione said.

They went to the sitting room, where the tall wizard was just taking off his coat. "Hermione," he greeted her. "Are you all set for tonight?"

"Yes," she said confidently. "I have a Polyjuice Potion ready, the hair is from someone in Hogsmeade that I got last week. I'll be apparating to Diagon Alley to be at the Leaky Cauldron by seven in the evening to meet Draco."

"I know you trust him, but be sure to check him for signs of the Imperius curse just the same," Kingsley said.

"I will," she assured him. "Harry and Ron will be at the Leaky Cauldron themselves under glamour charms, just as lookouts." She turned to her friends. "Although I don't know how long Draco and I have to meet, so once we've gone to the room I think you can leave me alone."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"Yes, Harry, I don't need bodyguards, I'm a competent duelist now," she said confidently.

Molly came in to serve them some tea, and the informal meeting progressed with Kingsley reporting that there were several packets of wizards and witches around London who have signified their continuing support for the Order. Several healers from St. Mungo's had also expressed their support, promising their service should the Order need it. News from the Ministry were more bleak. The Aurors had made no headway in apprehending any Death Eaters, though they have caught several werewolves that used to be under the leadership of Fenrir Greyback, though the werewolf Death Eater still remained at large.

Soon, it was time for Hermione to go. Harry and Ron apparated ahead of her to Diagon Alley while she waited for the Polyjuice Potion to take effect. When her brown curls had turned into a lovely honey blond curtain and her hazel eyes turned blue, she turned on the spot and apparated into Diagon Alley.

The shopping street was mildly crowded for a Saturday night. She fixed her robes and walked to the Leaky Cauldron, her eyes spotting Harry and Ron at a table near the stairs leading to the second floor. She was a few minutes early for her meeting, but she spotted Draco already waiting at the bar, nursing a glass of firewhiskey. She walked to the bar, mindful to put a little sway in her hips, and slipped into the seat right next to Draco.

"I'd like a butterbeer with a shot of phoenix fire, please," she told the bartender, making sure that Draco heard her order the signature drink they had both previously agreed on.

While the bartender prepared her drink, Draco looked her over before allowing a smile on his face. "The lady likes some fire in her butterbeer, doesn't she?" he asked conversationally.

"I prefer the innocence of butterbeer but with a little corruption," she said, nodding to the glass in his hand. "Firewhiskey is for old, boring men."

He let out a short laugh. "I'm neither old nor boring, I assure you." He paused, then held out his hand. "Draco Malfoy."

She placed her hand in his, assuming that he would shake it, but instead he brought it up to brush his lips softly against her skin. "Jean," she said, giving her middle name.

The bartender handed Hermione her drink, and she quickly took a sip just so she could take her hand back from Draco. When she was halfway through her drink, he turned to her again. "I don't recall ever seeing you here before," he said.

"I only come here when necessary," she said.

"Define necessary," he said in return.

She gave him a coy look. "When I'm bored and looking for better things to do." She crossed her legs, allowing her robe to part a little bit so that she could press her bare leg against his.

Draco smirked, obviously enjoying himself, and he leaned closer. "Those two blokes at the table by the stairs seem interested in you, but I assure you, I could entertain you far better than them."

Hermione's eyes drifted over to Harry and Ron, who both seemed ready to get sick right there on the table seeing her flirt with Draco so openly. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she laid a warm hand on Draco's arm. "You seem pretty confident about that, Mr. Malfoy," she said, amused.

He drew back, but kept a hand on her hip. "Let me prove it to you, if you don't believe me."

She forced a small laugh. "It seems you're not going to let me go, anyway."

Draco stood up and tossed a few knuts on the bar, paying for both of their drinks, and he helped Hermione down from he stool. He maneuvered her expertly through the crowd, his hand still on her hip, and just as they passed by Harry and Ron his hand slipped down a fraction and gave her a small pinch on her ass. Ron sputtered loudly into his butterbeer and as soon as Draco had led her into his room at the second floor Hermione put up a silencing charm and pushed him away.

"You could be such an arse," she scolded him, but she couldn't help the amusement from her voice.

Draco chuckled, shrugging helplessly. "I told you I might as well have fun doing this cloak and dagger stuff, and that ass pinch is the most fun I could get with you anyway, Granger, without you hexing my balls off, so I just went for it. It was worth it, too, seeing Weasel choke on his beer like that."

Hermione shook her head and laughed. She was relieved to see that Draco was still alive and apparently healthy and free of the Imperius curse. She suddenly stopped, and he looked at her. She shook her head again. "You know, just this afternoon I was thinking that I couldn't remember when I last laughed."

He grinned at her. "Annoying Weasel and Potter always made me feel good. Glad to see I can still do it even after joining your side."

She flopped down on the bed, and as she did so, it exhaled a cloud of dust. She coughed as she waved her hand in front of her face. "Gods, Draco, couldn't you have picked a cleaner room?"

"You're a witch, for Merlin's sake," he said, waving his hand to cast a wandless Scourgify. "Don't worry, now that I know your standards our next meeting will be at a fancy hotel. But you're going to have to dress up more for that." He winked at her.

"You can do wandless magic now?" she asked.

"Some," Draco admitted. "Tom helped. How is he, anyway? Still hiding out at Hogwarts?"

"Hogwarts is empty at the moment so he has free reign around the castle," she said. "How are you?"

He sat down on the bed beside her, turning serious. "I'm fine. They bought my story. My father was glad to have me back... I am his only heir, you know. Bellatrix was suspicious, but I won her over when I gave her the wand back. She checked its spells to be sure, and now I know why Tom was using it to perform curses used for dueling. Supposedly I beat you when I got the wand back from you."

"Did they use Legilimency on you?" she asked.

Draco's face brightened. "Granger, they did. And I was fucking good at giving them enough to make them believe me without giving anything serious away. It was my aunt that did it first, and she cast a Cruciatus before entering my mind, but I handled that all right. When she couldn't find anything suspicious, she brought me against the Dark Lord."

She took a deep breath. "So he's still alive," she said.

He nodded. "His body is broken, but his magic is still strong. He used Legilimency on me and he did it with the same intensity that Tom did. Of course I held out all right. After that, I was accepted back into the fold. I do not get invited yet to the Inner Circle meetings, but I do know some useful things."

He leaned forward. "The Dark Lord is weak physically. With Snape and my mother both gone, I am the one of the few left who can brew decent potions. They are having me brew a potion regularly called Victum Anima for the Dark Lord's consumption. It contains several ingredients that are hard to procure, namely fairy wings and dragon blood. He uses some of his lesser Death Eaters to get these items from the black market. If the Order were to crack down on the black market, we could stop his supply of potion ingredients and you might nab yourselves a couple of lesser Death Eaters at the same time."

"Will you not get punished if you are unable to provide him with this potion?" she asked.

"I don't think so, since I'm not the one who goes out to collect the ingredients," he said.

"What else can you tell me?" she asked.

"The Dark Lord is thickening his ranks." He paused. "He has recruited some people our age. Pansy Parkinson, Theo Nott, Marcus Flint, and Daphne Greengrass."

"Theo Nott and Daphne Greengrass?" she asked, shocked. She did not care much for Pansy or Marcus, but Theo Nott was a quiet Slytherin who was often at the top ten of the class at school, and Daphne Greengrass was another Slytherin pureblood who had never displayed any form of dislike or aggression towards here even if Pansy did so.

He shrugged. "Theo's father is a hard core follower, and Daphne's father is tight with Nott Sr."

"But it must make it easier for you, having some people there your own age?" she asked him.

"Theo and Daphne are fine company," he admitted. "Theo helps me with the potions sometimes. It's having Pansy around that sets me on edge. She loves the thrill of it, Granger, being a Death Eater. My Aunt Bella has taken quite a liking to her and is talking to my father about setting us as a match." He scowled.

Hermione made a gagging motion. "Ew. Though weren't you together with her before at Hogwarts?"

"That was for fun, Granger. It was good sex, but marrying Pansy and sleeping with her everyday? Absolute hell. I don't even want to shag her again, she's gone completely over the edge this time. She's like a Bellatrix Lestrange in the making. I'd rather bed you than have another go at her."

She shoved him. "There is no way you're going to get into my knickers, Malfoy, so don't even think about it."

He laughed, rubbing his sore shoulder. "I'm not thinking about it. I'm not stupid, you know."

She raised her eyebrows at this. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you don't do that kind of thing. Shags on the side. You're waiting for the right one at the right moment." He shrugged. "It's kind of cute, and ironically, it's a very pureblood thing to do. To be honest, I was expecting Weasel to start courting you as soon as you came of age. He obviously likes you."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "How did we get around to talking about my personal life? You're supposed to be reporting about the Death Eaters."

"There's nothing else to report," he said. "You have to wait until I get into the Inner Circle before I could give you the juicy bits. If you don't want to talk about your personal life, then what else is there to do? Unless you want us to use this room for its intended purposes?" He gave her a suggestive smile.

She laughed at his innuendo. "Draco, you're absolutely incorrigible. But Merlin, you're a breath of fresh air in the middle of this war. So... are we done here or what?"

He shifted, kicking off his shoes so he can lie down on the bed. "Oh, I assure you, Granger, I could go on all night."

She was still chuckling when she kicked off her shoes as well, lying down on the bed beside him. "I believe you, no need to prove it to me."

"I just don't want to go back to the Manor yet," he said.

"Well, we can just talk," she said, raising her wand to lower the intensity of the light in the room so they weren't squinting when they looked up. "But not about my romance, or lack thereof."

"Did it really hurt, whenever people called you a mudblood?" he asked suddenly.

She was surprised at the seriousness of his tone. "At first, it did," she admitted. "But then, I realized it didn't change anything. I was still top of the class, I was still the cleverest witch of my age, I'm a better spell caster than, say, Neville. Do you know that Voldemort is a half-blood?"

"At first, I didn't," he said. "I just assumed that he was a pureblood, after all, he was Slytherin's heir. But when you introduced him as Tom Riddle, I knew that it was a Muggle name and thus he wasn't a pureblood. He's Slytherin's heir, though, and diluting his wizarding blood with muggle blood did not diminish his magic."

"Why are purebloods against muggleborns so much?" she asked.

"We were taught at an early age that muggleborns are here to snuff out our magic," Draco explained. "You've read in the History of Magic. Muggles in the dark ages discovered the existence of witches and wizards. They were persecuted, because they were different, and so the magical community back then retreated into themselves, with no contact with Muggles. In their isolation, eventually the Muggles stopped the witch hunts and after centuries they eventually forgot about witches and wizards. However, muggleborns were still entering the magical community, and their presence reminded the purebloods of those days when the Muggles were persecuting them. So it's difficult for us to welcome muggleborns with open arms, as they represent a link to the Muggle world that had been so harsh to our kind ages ago."

"Well, it's not the dark ages anymore," she said.

"The reason why there are so few pureblood families now is because a lot of them were killed during the witch hunts," Draco said. "It's a centuries old problem, Hermione. I think the prejudice will never really go away. Too much history, you know."

"Then how can the war end if the prejudice will not go away?" she asked sadly.

"Compromise," he answered. "But one side as to give in first, otherwise it's all just going to be a stalemate."

"But do you think Voldemort would be open to a compromise?" she asked him.

"Hell no," he said immediately. Then he met her eyes. "But I think Tom Riddle would."

It was late in the morning when Hermione returned to the Burrow, much to Ron's chagrin. Harry simply bowed his head to hide his laughter when Hermione explained that Draco had said ending their tryst in the middle of the night would be uncharacteristic of him as he had too much stamina and could go on all night.

"He looked like he was enjoying himself too much having his hands all over you," Ron argued.

"He was enjoying the reaction he got out of you, not exactly because he was groping my arse," she pointed out. She waved away the breakfast the Molly had presented her. "Thank you, Molly, but Draco and I had breakfast before we parted."

"So how was the meeting?" Harry asked.

Quickly, Hermione relayed Draco's intel about the potion. Harry nodded at the idea of setting an ambush for the Death Eaters in the black market. "We could follow them and see where their hideout is. I doubt all of the Death Eaters are staying at Malfoy Manor."

"No, just the Inner Circle," Hermione confirmed. "Draco said that he will have more news for us once he gets into the Inner Circle. For the moment, he has to do his duties well to gain Voldemort's favor. He's warning us, though, that he might participate in several raids to rise up in the Death Eater ranks. Apparently, Pansy Parkinson has been made a Death Eater and is exhibiting quite an aptitude for it, competing with him for a place in the Inner Circle."

"Great," Ron muttered. "More Slytherins going over to the Dark Side."

"Mione, Kingsley said that he received some intel that Death Eaters are recruiting another pack of werewolves in the northern part of Scotland," Harry said. "We're going to intercept their emissary on Tuesday night. We could use the extra wand."

"Sure," Hermione said. "Who are coming?"

"Me, Ron, Bill, Kingsley, and Oliver Wood."

"I'll join you," she said decisively, eager to see how well she could duel after she had been practicing with Tom. "Will it be the full moon on Tuesday?"

"No, so you don't need to worry about being turned," Harry said. "I don't think the Death Eaters will want to meet with the werewolves during a full moon, either."

"No, I don't think they're that brave," she agreed, smiling. "Did you stay long at the Leaky Cauldron last night?"

"About a couple of hours after you'd gone up," Harry said. "Hannah Abbott dropped by and we got to talking. She sends you her regards. She's keeping a low profile at the moment, but she said that if Hogwarts reopens, she wants to go back to redo her seventh year."

"I'm thinking of going back as well, for my N.E.W.T.s," Hermione said.

"You think the war will be over by the time September rolls around?" Ron asked.

"I don't know," she answered. "I hope so."

Harry laughed. "You're the only one I know who would be so eager to go back to school."

"Well, whether there is a war or not, education is still important," Hermione insisted.

"That is one argument I'm not even starting with you," Harry said, holding up his hands.

"What argument?" Ginny asked, coming into the kitchen to sit beside Harry.

"About Hermione excited about going back to school," Harry said.

"Well, Hermione would probably be Head Girl if she came back," Ginny said. "So, how was your night with Malfoy? Did he live up to his name as the Slytherin Sex God?"

Hermione laughed. "Aside from some clever innuendos and a groping of my arse, he didn't get very far. He does look very handsome when he sleeps, though."

"You slept with him?" Ron asked, aghast.

"Well, we didn't stay up all night," Hermione said.

"I thought he had all that stamina," Harry cracked, sending both Hermione and Ginny into giggles.

"Apparently, he couldn't keep up with me," Hermione quipped.

"So when is your next meeting with him?" Harry asked.

"Next Saturday, and this time, I insisted that we meet someplace nice," Hermione said. "And he promised me dinner first before a shag."

"You're enjoying this too much yourself," Ron complained.

"Not as much as if it were a real shag," Ginny said devilishly.

Hermione shook her head. "Oh, Ginny, you're too much sometimes."

"Well, Hermione, we're in the middle of a war. You've got to take some time out and enjoy yourself when you can," Ginny said vaguely.

Ron looked horrified. "Gin, don't tell me... Harry..."

Harry was turning red in the face, almost matching Ginny's hair. Hermione stood up abruptly, scraping her chair across the floor. "I don't think I want to be around for this," she said, hightailing it out of the kitchen. "See you on Tuesday," she called over her shoulder before disapparating.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

* * *

Hermione crouched low beside Ron and Harry as they lay in wait for the Death Eaters to arrive. Bill, Kingsley and Oliver were also hidden somewhere in the other side of the path which Kingsley had said led to the lair that the group of werewolves were using as their hideout.

"I hope they come soon," Ron muttered. "I'm getting cramps sitting still for so long."

Hermione shushed him quickly though she felt eager herself. Tom had shared her excitement at the opportunity to try dueling the Death Eaters, and had even expressed that he wanted to come along even just so he could see how she fared. She had dissuaded him, telling him that Harry and Ron were going to be there and that he could review the memory from her with Legilimency anyway, and he had replied with a simple reminder to make sure she got back to him promptly once matters were settled. She felt odd at that, feeling that in his own way, he was telling her to be careful and to get out of the encounter unscathed. Wishful thinking on her part, perhaps.

Not long afterwards, there was the sound of multiple popping noises that signaled someone apparating near them. She counted three distinct pops, and when she peered through the foliage to check with her eyes, she saw three Death Eaters, all of them wearing masks, walk down the path. She gripped her wand, forcing herself to take even breaths as she waited for Kingsley to initiate the skirmish.

Suddenly, a jet of red light shot out from Kingsley's location, connecting with the Death Eater that was nearest to them. The Death Eater fell to the ground stunned, his fall alarming his two companions that they had walked into an ambush. Hermione leaped forward to engage the second Death Eater, her wand furiously moving through three consecutive curses, ending with a strong blasting curse that her quarry barely dodged. She was aware of Kingsley and Oliver engaging the third Death Eater while Bill secured the stunned Death Eater with a binding spell. She heard Ron and Harry behind her, meaning to help her with her opponent, but she would have none of it.

" _Impedimenta! Confringo!_ " she hissed fiercely, adding a vicious slash with her wand that cut her opponent at the shoulder.

" _Expelliarmus!_ " Harry's voice rang out, effectively disarming the Death Eater in front of her.

" _Incarcerous,_ " Ron said, pointing his wand at the wandless Death Eater, binding him and lowering him to the ground.

Hermione looked over at Kingsley and Oliver, who was still battling the third Death Eater, but the third Death Eater, seeing that his companions had fallen, was smart enough to retreat, disapparating with a loud noise. "It was over so fast," she said, almost sounding disappointed.

"They weren't expecting to get attacked," Kingsley said, pocketing his wand. "This is good for us. We have two prisoners that we can interrogate for more information. Now, let's see who's behind the masks, shall we?"

He bent down and removed the mask from the stunned Death Eater, revealing a face that they did not recognize. Harry removed the mask of the other prisoner, and Hermione looked at him. She had not seen him before, but his face looked familiar. "I presume this one is Mr. Nott Sr.," she said, seeing his resemblance with Theo.

Kingsley nodded. "This is good," he repeated. "We will be taking them to the Auror Division. When I submit my memories as evidence, it will be enough to get these two to trial and an eventual sentence in Azkaban."

"We'll apparate then, to the Auror Office, you still have your contact there, right?" Bill asked Kingsley.

"Yes," Kingsley said. "Bill and I can handle these two. The rest of you may go your own way."

The two older wizards disapparated with their prisoners. Oliver walked over to them, running a hand through his hair. "That was easy," he said. "I hope those two prisoners give up some useful intel."

"The other one is probably a lesser rank and won't know much," Hermione said. "Nott Sr. is part of the Inner Circle and would have valuable information, but I don't know how strong his Occlumency is. If it's anything as good as Draco's, the Aurors might not get much out of him."

"Draco's a mater Occlumens?" Ron asked.

"Yes, which is why he was confident going in as a spy," Hermione said, pocketing her wand. "Voldemort couldn't break his shields."

"That's surprising," Harry commented. Then he changed the subject. "Hermione, you were so quick on the draw. I haven't seen you cast so well before. And you were already pretty good before, so that's saying something else."

She was pleased. "I've been working on my dueling skills," she told him. "Did you really think there was an improvement?"

Harry nodded. "It's still early in the night. Do you want to go back to the Burrow with us and have a snack before heading back to Hogwarts?"

She considered this, and nodded. "I don't want to stay too long, though, maybe just for an hour."

They apparated to the Weasley household, where Molly was waiting up for them. She had set out four places at the table and had cheese and crackers and a mild wine prepared for them. "Eat up," she said lightly, obviously glad that none of them were hurt.

"Thanks, Molly," Hermione said, giving the matronly woman a warm hug. The woman was always hospitable, even now when they were tight financially since Arthur Weasley lost his job at the Ministry.

They eagerly devoured the cheese and crackers, and Hermione savored the wine. She had gotten used to it, with Tom almost always having a glass every evening at Hogwarts. Ron was unusually quiet, and Harry asked him about it.

"It's nothing, mate, I'm just annoyed," Ron said.

"About what?" Oliver asked.

"I was expecting something big to go down tonight, and suddenly it was over in five minutes. I wasn't even able to get a spell in except to bind that disarmed Death Eater," he complained.

"We should just be thankful that it went as simple as that," Hermione said.

"You didn't even let me get a spell in, Hermione."

She frowned. "I didn't know you wanted to take turns, Ron. When Kingsley gave the signal to engage, I just went ahead right in. I'm sure there will be other opportunities. When I get more information from Draco this weekend..."

"Oh, you're so dependent on him now," Ron said.

"Quit it, Ron, you're just jealous because he's playing a big role in the Order while we're all just waiting around for him like sitting ducks," Hermione said, knowing from the way Ron's face reddened that her assumption was correct. "May I remind you that it was actually _your_ idea to use him as a spy? And now you're complaining? You should be glad that you're relatively safe at the moment unlike Draco who has to watch his back all the time."

"Stop defending him, Hermione," Ron said.

Oliver and Harry were starting to look uncomfortable as Hermione set her wine glass down with a loud thud. "Stop being so bloody antagonistic, then," she shot back. "What do you really want to happen, Ron? You want to do more work for the Order? Talk with Kingsley! Maybe he can use you as liaison for contacting others for their support for the Order."

"He's already got Percy and George doing that for him," Ron said. "I just feel useless, you know? Harry's setting himself aside for his confrontation with Voldemort. You're helping Malfoy with information gathering. Kingsley has chosen George and Percy as his diplomats. I want to be a hero in the war, too," he said.

"Well, I don't mind not having a big role," Hermione said, crossing her arms. "You could easily be Draco's liaison, except that I'm sure you can't control yourself around him and you two would just end up bickering and the entire thing would be counterproductive."

"And you have to be willing to Polyjuice yourself as a girl and flirt with him, which I think would kill you first," Harry interjected, hoping to lighten up the mood. "Don't worry, Ron. This war may take a long time, and I'm sure we will have a lot more opportunities. Which reminds me, Hermione, have you made any headway into why I didn't defeat Voldemort last time?"

Hermione picked up her glass again, gazing into the warm red liquid while thinking about how much she could say at this point. "It's as if Voldemort has another horcrux," she finally said. "I have good reason to think that part of Voldemort's soul, not the one in his current body, is still left in this world. It's not a horcrux, really, but it acts as a horcrux in the same way by anchoring his soul back on this world so he cannot cross into the afterlife."

"So we just need to kill this other bit before we can finish Voldemort off," Harry said.

"Well, Harry, it's not that easy," she said, biting her lip. "The reason why horcruxes require a large amount of magic fueled by hatred and anger is because it takes a lot of effort to force a soul into an inanimate object. Without that kind of power, a soul can enter more easily into a human body. Therefore, we have to consider the possibility that there is another part of Voldemort's soul that is inside another person."

"But we've killed the horcruxes," Harry protested.

"Killing the horcruxes means killing the objects that house the soul, but it doesn't mean the soul is killed itself. It simply passes on through the veil and into the afterlife," she explained. "There is still a way to kill Voldemort, we just have to sever his connection with the other soul. It's possible, but to be able to do that, I need to work on a spell to cut the connection. That's what I have been researching on," she finished.

"But where is his other soul?" Harry asked. "We can't just leave it walking around. Hermione, this is the darkest wizard we are talking about. He will only try and gain power again!"

"We cannot just go around killing anybody, Harry," she said, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass. "How would you feel if someone just came up to you and killed you because you've got part of Voldemort's soul in you?"

"Well, I would certainly want to get rid of that part in me," he said.

"Preferably without dying yourself, right?"

"But if it can't be done without me giving up my life..." Harry said.

Hermione waved her hand to cut him off. "I just want to point out that we can't go out wands blazing to kill anyone straight away. Besides, this other person might be important to defeating Voldemort."

"Hermione, Voldemort will always want to preserve his own life," Harry pointed out. "What makes you think that a part of his soul will just be all right with killing his own self?"

"To preserve his other body," she answered. "Maybe his other soul, the one that's not in the broken body, will be willing to bargain for something."

Harry laughed sarcastically. "If he should bargain, only a fool would be stupid enough to trust him."

"We wouldn't have trusted Draco a year ago," she pointed out.

"Yes, Malfoy is helping us out now, but that's because he is looking out for his own best interest rather than just being noble himself," Harry said.

"Then all we have to do is find something that Voldemort's other half considers is worth bargaining for," she said.

"He only wants to rule the world, Hermione."

She shook her head. "From what I know of Tom Riddle, he's not shallow. He had his reasons for setting out on this particular path. It must be something more than just ruling over wizarding Britain."

"Mione, you don't know Tom Riddle like I do," Harry said.

* * *

Hermione flexed the fingers of her left hand and focused her magic, conjuring a small shield to surround her just as she fired a slicing hex with the wand she held in her right hand. It was another dueling pearl that Tom had given to her, casting a shield charm with her wandless hand just as her other hand was finishing up with an offensive spell.

"It's a weak shield," Tom said, walking over to her.

"Give me a moment, it's not exactly easy to do a wandless Protego with my non dominant hand," she muttered.

He reached out and took her hand, laying his palm against hers. "Sometimes I think that wands were the worst things to be invented in the magical world. It helps a wizard focus his magic so he can cast spells with more control, but it also makes most people forget that magic does not come from the wand per se. Your magic is inside you, Hermione. Feel it."

She took a deep breath as she closed her eyes. She could feel the tingling in the palms of her hand, but she wasn't sure if it was because she was aware of her magic or the fact the she was holding hands with bloody Tom Riddle, of all people. "I feel it, I think," she said, fighting to keep her voice level. "I can also feel your magic."

She opened her eyes in time to see him raise an eyebrow, and she felt a warm rush as he allowed some of his magic to uncoil from his core. She had felt his aura before, particularly when he let it flare when they were dueling, but never as close as this. It had always left her with a mixed feeling of fear and fascination, for his magic was deep and rolled off him in waves when he wasn't consciously toning it down. She was envious of his control, and she knew that if she had that same amount of power, she would also feel entitled to some recognition.

"I have never really been that... intuitive," she confessed.

"You go by the book too much," he told her, though his tone was not disapproving. "Magic is an inexhaustible resource, Hermione. You can read a thousand books about it and still not learn everything."

She took her hand back from him and flexed her fingers again, still feeling the tingle which she now knew was her own awareness of her magic. "How did you manage to learn so much more when you were at Hogwarts?" she asked.

"I never felt restricted by the rules," he said. "I never really had that much regard for authority."

"How come?" she asked.

He was more open to her now, since they had started dueling together, and she wasn't disappointed when he answered her. "I never benefited from them," he said simply. "I was mistreated a lot when I was at that orphanage, the rules did not help me. When I learned about magic, I promised myself that I would not allow myself to be restricted again."

"Is that why you did all of those things to those kids at the orphanage?"

"If you're going to tell me I was wrong to hurt them, Hermione, they did hurt me first," he said evenly. "Don't go all sanctimonious on me either. I'm sure you broke a few rules yourself. Obliviating your own parents isn't exactly legal, is it?"

"That's not even the half of it," she muttered, thinking about everything she and her friends had done behind everyone's back. "From brewing Polyjuice Potion in a bathroom during my second year to breaking into Gringotts this year, I haven't exactly been as law-abiding as I would have liked. And it makes me feel like a hypocrite. All this time I've been preaching to Harry and Ron to be mindful about their actions, that not all everything is acceptable under the simple reason of doing it for the greater good. Sometimes I think you are lucky, not to be burdened by a moral compass such as me."

He threw her an odd look. "Contrary to what you may think, Hermione, I'm not completely amoral."

"I admit, you may have a sense of morality, however small, but you did kill Moaning Myrtle when you were still a student," she said.

"Morning Myrtle, is that what you call her?" He gave a short laugh. "I can't think of a name more suitable. She deserved her death. I had been nothing but nice to her, and she insulted me."

"But isn't it going a little too far killing her just because of an insult?" she asked.

He shook his head angrily, but she was too comfortable with him now to recoil from his anger. "Hermione, you don't even know what she did."

"Then tell me," she persisted, following him as he stalked towards the room that he used for sleeping. Now that she had been spending a lot of time with him in the Chamber of Secrets, she had always respected his privacy so that whenever he retreated to his bedroom, she left him alone. Today, however, she followed him inside.

"Tom, come on," she said, forgetting caution and using his given name as frustration took over her. "I have already invested a lot in you. I'm lying to my friends, and I don't do that easily. At least give me something in return, let me know something that others do not know. I was told that you killed Myrtle because she was a muggleborn."

He stopped pacing and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I really don't want to talk about it, Hermione. Can you at least respect my privacy?"

For the first time, she thought he sounded weary, and she backed off. "It isn't really a case of just curiosity," she said softly. "I just want to understand you more. Before I met you, I had this idea of how Tom Riddle was based on what Dumbledore and Harry had told me, and from the things I knew Voldemort has done. Last night, I broached the possibility of your existence with Harry. He told me that I didn't know you as well as he did. I just don't want him to be right about that."

Tom looked at her for a long time, considering it, then he gestured to a chair beside the bed, which she took. "I want to ask for something in return for what I am going to tell you," he said.

Hermione met his eyes, remembering Harry's warning that only a fool would bargain with Tom Riddle. Because she wanted to prove him wrong, she found herself nodding. "What is it you ask for?" she said.

"That you not tell anyone what I'm going to tell you, and afterwards, I do not wish to talk about it again," he said.

She blinked. It wasn't the cunning, evil favor she had been expecting. "Of course I wouldn't tell others. I do know how to show some respect. You didn't even have to ask that of me."

"I forgot you were a bloody Gryffindor," he muttered. He sat down at the edge of his bed but close enough to her so that he didn't have to speak too loud.

"I've known Myrtle Warren was a muggleborn," he said. "She was a Ravenclaw, she had the smarts, and being one of the few who could actually keep close to my marks in classes, she and I crossed each other's paths several times. She was like you in that she was very bookish, but she had no friends and often hid in the library, where I spend most of my time myself."

He paused for a second before continuing. "I was in the library one day, fooling around with this girl from Slytherin."

"Were you?" she asked, feeling a little jealous and realizing how irrational that was.

"Only as interested as Draco was in terms of his conquests," Tom said.

"Why must boys always consider girls as mere conquests?" she said, rolling her eyes. "Must you all think with your hormones?"

"Actually, I don't," he said. "You know I'm not like the others. The Amortentia my blasted mother took rendered me incapable of love. When I started to fool around with that girl, I realized that I was also incapable of doing...acts... pertaining to love. That potion does not abolish the base instinct of attraction and desire, but it does not allow completion."

It only took her a few seconds to see beyond his formal words to realize that Tom was telling her that he was impotent. She schooled her expression into a neutral one as she waited for him to continue, which he did.

"I realized this quickly I cast a quick obliviate on the girl and sent her on her way. I didn't know that Myrtle was over at the next row of book cases and saw everything. She laughed at me. She saw my flaw, that Tom Riddle was not a complete man. She relished in the fact that the most popular student in school was not as perfect as he seemed to be. She kept on laughing, that high-pitched, gleeful giggle, and I decided she had to go." He held up his hand to stop her from speaking. "You might say it was quite a shallow reason, but when she laughed at me she also insulted the fact that I cannot produce an heir. Imagine, Slytherin's heir, with no heir of his own."

He nodded at her. "That is when I also started to research about horcruxes, and why it was significant that her death was my first horcrux, so that she can't have the last laugh. If I wasn't going to have an heir, I wanted to live forever. I come from the bloodline of Salazar Slytherin. I'm not going to let that bloodline disappear from this world."

They sat together in silence after that, each lost in their own thoughts. She played with the sleeve of her robe, not knowing what to say, and he noticed. "Did I make you uncomfortable?" he asked.

"No," she said quickly. "I understand your reason, and I actually feel better that you actually had a reason for doing it rather than not having any. Although, I wouldn't have done the same thing you did. You're such a hardliner."

"I do not deny that," he agreed.

"I once put a curse on a schoolmate because she told on me and my friends. And there was also an instance that I led a teacher into the centaurs because I was annoyed with her," she confessed.

"Too soft," he said. "Where is this teacher now?"

"She's at the Ministry, still being her annoying self," she admitted.

"You should have just gotten rid of her permanently, then," he said easily.

"I can't," she said. "Even if I'm in the middle of a war, I haven't really killed anybody yet."

"It's the first kill that is the hardest," he told her. "After you cross the threshold, it's easier to see others' lives as being less valuable than your own."

"I don't think I want to cross that threshold," she said.

"Then I suggest you stay away from me," he said.

"I don't want to stay away from you either."

His eyes slowly swept over her, starting at her ankles, moving up her knees, her arms, her shoulders, before finally resting on her face. His gaze was so intense that she felt like he was physically touching her. He suddenly stood up and started pacing. "That tops my quota for personal talk today," he said. "You should leave."

"Excuse me?"

"Please leave, for now," he repeated, nodding towards the door.

"Tom," she said as she got to her feet.

He waved her away with his hand as a final dismissal, and she relented, picking up her wand and leaving him alone.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Hours later, Hermione sat on a high stool in the Hogwarts kitchens, picking at a cheese scone. She had left Tom alone as he had asked her to, but that meant she had been left alone with her thoughts as well. She thought about what he had said, about having the headache, and deduced it to be due to his recollection of that time in his life. It was a far safer interpretation of his words, for she did not want to think of the alternative one: that Tom was feeling attracted to her.

She supposed it couldn't be helped because of their situation. She was the only one he spent time with, and she was the only one that could really talk to him and keep up with his way of thinking. She almost wished that she hadn't pressed him to talk to her that morning, for his revelation only made her realize how difficult it must have been for him to be denied what was supposedly a basic human instinct. It caused her to see him even more apart from Voldemort, and it was a problem she wanted to avoid because she couldn't deny anymore that she was partly attracted to him as well. Forcing herself to stay away from him for most of the day only confirmed that fact.

She knew she couldn't really act on it. If he knew she fancied him, then he would only get more frustrated with himself. For all his elegance and poise, Hermione knew that Tom had a volatile temper, and she didn't want to push him towards losing control. And that wasn't even taking into account what Harry and Ron would do if they knew.

She was telling him the truth, though, when she said that she didn't want to stay away from him. So she picked up a scone and wrapped it in a serviette, making her way to the Chamber of Secrets. He had taken to leaving the entrance open for her, as no one else was around, and she was pleased to see that he hadn't closed it that morning either.

She found him in the sitting room, reading a back issue of the Daily Prophet. He looked up when she entered, and easily caught the scone she had tossed at him. "It's almost tea time," she said neutrally. "I was wondering if you'd like to have something in particular tonight so we can ask the elves to make it."

"How do you feel about black bean beef?" he asked before biting into the scone.

She grinned. "Only if it comes with egg fried rice. Do you think the elves can make Chinese food? I thought you weren't into muggle stuff."

He stood up, tossing the paper onto a side table. "It's still food," he said.

She looked at the paper. "You're reading back issues. I've got a copy of the current newspaper upstairs, if you want. I have it delivered to my room every morning. I'll get it for you and meet you at the kitchens."

They exited the chamber and she dashed upstairs to retrieve her copy of the Daily Prophet before meeting him in the kitchen, where he was already nursing a mug of hot chocolate. On the other side of the table, she found another mug, the chocolate kept warm with a stasis charm.

She slipped him the newspaper as she wrapped her hands around her mug. It was still summer, but being alone in a large castle made it seem colder than it really was. "You will find an article there about the Death Eaters we captured last night," she said. "Kingsley said it might help us get more information on them."

He skimmed over the front page, quickly reading the article on the Death Eater capture. Hermione thought it was good news for the light side, but another article somewhere inside the paper also reported the killing of another muggleborn family, though it was unconfirmed by the writer's sources whether there was foul play involving the Death Eaters.

"Your war is at a stalemate," he commented, folding up the paper and setting it aside.

"Draco and I deduced the same thing the other night," she said. "He told me that the prejudice against blood status will never really disappear."

"No, the purebloods' prejudices are far too deeply ingrained," he agreed. "Society will always have its hierarchy. There is a hierarchy at school, at the workplace. To simply tell the community to let go of the prejudice against muggleborns and to treat everyone equally will not work, because people are not meant to be treated equally, anyway. You don't treat Harry and Neville the same way, do you?"

"No," she admitted. "But the prejudice against muggleborns is the hindrance to uniting the wizarding world."

"People always like to think that they are better than somebody else. In that sense, prejudice will always be around. The only way to take the prejudice away from the muggleborns is to introduce a new kind of prejudice."

She set down her mug, a seed of an idea forming in her head. "A new class system, you mean," she said. "Where wizards are measured based on their abilities rather than simple heritage?"

He nodded. "It would have to be enforced by the Ministry, and it would take years to take root. There should be an empirical way of measuring a wizard's abilities that would put them in different classes. O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s are merely academic achievements and are not the only means of indicating a wizard's ability."

"That would mean tremendous restructuring for the wizarding world," she murmured. "But I suppose that is better than labeling a person as inferior just because of blood status. Is there a way of measuring raw magical power?"

"Not that I know of," he said. "Though I suppose one can find a way. I have always been able to assess a person's magical ability by feeling their aura, but that is mostly intuition."

They lapsed into silence when a house elf brought them their Chinese dinner. Hermione smiled when she tried it. "This is a new discovery for me. Hogwarts elves are a good alternative to takeaway."

"Takeaway?"

"Ordering food at a restaurant and eating it at home," she explained. "The muggle world has changed a lot since your time."

"I would imagine," he said.

An idea came to her. "Would you like to see it again?"

He practically snorted into his drink. "Did you forget that I dislike muggles?"

"You disliked muggles from your time, because they gave you a reason to," she said. "This time, there isn't any. Besides, muggle London would be a good place for us to go to without having to hide. There isn't any war in the muggle world, and Voldemort isn't exactly in shape to foray out and kill random muggles. I need to go to the muggle world anyway and get some more money from the bank. I was planning to go tomorrow while I don't have anything else to do. Do you want to come with me?"

He chewed on the idea for a while before finally nodding. "I'll come with you," he said. "It should be interesting."

The next day, Hermione was walking through Hyde Park beside Tom, nursing an ice cream cone while repeatedly chanting 'this is not a date, this is not a date' in her head. It didn't start out as one. Before leaving Hogwarts, she had transfigured his clothes into something more appropriate for their trip. If she had thought he was attractive before, she was unprepared to see him in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. She took him by side-along apparition to her house, which had been empty for months since her parents have moved out.

"It's empty, but you still have wards up," he said, walking through the front hallway.

"I didn't want the house destroyed," she told him. "When my parents put the house up for sale, I pretended to buy it under a false name so no one else would move in. I usually apparate here when I go to the muggle world because I know there won't be any muggles here... Muggle-Repellent Charm... and the bank my parents go to is just a few blocks from here and we can walk."

She had finished her business with the bank, tucking her wallet safely in the inside pocket of her summer coat. She treated him to a local fish and chips shop, and it was when he pulled out a seat for her that she began to feel like they were on a date. He had always been a good listener, and even when his fingers played with his fork, she knew she still had his undivided attention.

He had, like her, a curious mind. He asked her about her muggle life, starting with her parents' jobs as he had noticed that they lived in a comfortable house in the middle of London. She answered his questions freely, as payback for his forthrightness the previous day. After the fish and chips, she took him around to the park, buying them an ice cream cone each.

"Do you miss being in the muggle world?" he asked her, finishing his ice cream ahead of her.

"No," she said. "I miss my parents, but other than that, there is nothing for me here. All my friends are wizards and witches and I have found myself a surrogate family there. Even if there was no war, I don't think I would have gone back to the muggle world."

"You were lucky to have integrated so well with the magical community," he said.

"Oh, yes. Actually, I haven't considered how other muggleborns have done," she admitted. "I didn't think I had to choose between the muggle world and the magical world, but I don't know if that is true for the others. The Ministry is better now at enforcing the Statute of Secrecy, though. There have been minor incidents of accidental magic being done, but the Ministry is able to manage it. In this modern world, people just don't believe in magic anymore. For Merlin's sake, Voldemort destroyed a whole bridge in the middle of London last year and no one even suspected magic."

"He attacked London?" Tom asked.

"Yes." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Risky," he said softly, shaking his head. "To expose magic to muggles would only tempt them to seek us out further, and we might have a repetition of the witch hunts during the middle ages."

"I think Voldemort was thinking of preventing that by killing all of the muggles," she said dryly.

"It's an idea to work with," he said, earning a horrified look from her. "It is," he insisted. "But it would be a foolish move. Muggles outnumber wizards more than a hundred to one. It doesn't take a genius to figure out those odds. And magic, though a strong force, is not totally infallible, I realize now."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't go around much when I was younger, so I may not have noticed it back then. But this morning, when you went to the bank, when we passed through the security measures... the electricity interferes with the magic. Did you not feel it?"

"No, I wasn't conscious of it."

"It's not that remarkable, it only felt like a small fizzle in my magic, but I don't know how it will affect my spell casting. I have seen how much muggles have progressed in the last fifty years. I would think that, if pressed for the need, they can develop something to actually counter our magic."

Hermione grew worried at this. "If that is true, then it would be easy for muggles to come after wizards if they choose to do so."

"Which is why muggles and wizards must continue to steer clear of each other, and why muggleborns will always be treated with a degree of wariness in the wizarding world. Muggleborns will always feel that compulsion to go back to their roots, and this going back and forth between the muggle world and the wizarding world is a bad idea. Just like this excursion of yours," he said, looking at her sideways.

"But I'm careful," she protested.

"You are, but others might not be," he said. "If muggleborns want to remain in the wizarding world, then they should choose the wizarding world above anything else. They cannot sit on the fence and go back and forth between two sides."

Their conversation was interrupted by a beginning drizzle. Hermione looked up with distaste. "Trust the English weather to ruin the only nice afternoon I have outside of the school."

She looked at Tom just in time to see him grab a stick and discreetly transfigure it to an umbrella before holding it up over her head. "What happened to being careful?" she chided him.

"Everybody else is busy running for cover to notice us," he said calmly. "And the rain works to our advantage as well, as no one will be noticing us when we apparate behind those bushes. I have had enough of muggle London to last me for the next fifty years. Shall we return to Hogwarts?"

She nodded. "Let's," she agreed, and they stepped behind some bushes that provided adequate cover. She slipped her wand into her hand, preparing to apparate them, but he stopped her.

"Allow me," he said, pushing her hand down and sliding his hand up her arm to gently grip her elbow.

Hermione stepped closer to him, turning her head to the side so she wouldn't have to look at his face as he bent his head down to focus. She prepared for the gut-wrenching feeling that accompanied side-along apparition, but she felt nothing except his magic surrounding her. When she blinked next, they were standing outside the Hogwarts gates, where the midday sun was beating down on them. She looked up at him in surprise.

He smiled at her knowingly as he Vanished the umbrella. "Not all side-along apparitions need to be so horrible."

She shoved him away from her, but couldn't help the sheepish smile creeping onto her face. "Show-off," she muttered.

* * *

Hermione practically collapsed on the plush bed at the hotel room that Draco had booked for them. Her stomach was full just coming from a sumptuous dinner, and for once she was glad that Draco was wealthy and smart enough to set aside some money for himself without being dependent on his father.

"I wish we didn't have to do work tonight," she sighed, kicking off her shoes.

Draco was lounging in an arm chair, equally satisfied. "I know. I missed evening dinners like this. My sixth year hasn't been really that great, and seventh year was actually worse."

"How are things?" she asked.

"The Dark Lord was really angry when Nott Sr. was captured," he told her. "But it gives me an opportunity to get into the Innner Circle since a space was freed up. My father naturally wants me to be the one to fill in, but Aunt Bella is backing Pansy. I'm not worried about it, though. In terms of spell casting and the smarts, I'm the better choice over Pansy."

She nodded. "Kingsley said we're just waiting for a trial date for the two captured Death Eaters."

"Don't be too complacent, though," he warned her. "I am certain that the Death Eaters will find a way to have them released. Nott Sr. is a favorite of the Dark Lord's. He won't plan something as grand as a prison breakout, but he might grease some palms to make the case disappear."

She considered this. "All right. With Kingsley's memories, he might be able to convince the Ministry to conduct a raid on the Nott estate. Hopefully we find more incriminating things there. Any other news?"

"The Dark Lord is looking for an alternative source of blood for his regeneration potion," Draco said. "Obviously, he doesn't want to take Harry's blood again. He's being more cautious about it this time, though. He has me and Theo doing research for him on variations of the renegeration potion. He wants good blood this time."

Hermione's pulse quickened. "He can't know about Tom."

"Yes, because Tom would be the perfect candidate," he agreed. "Though I doubt it if the Death Eaters can beat Tom in a duel. None of the Death Eaters can really best Lord Voldemort, and from what I've seen of Tom, he is as capable as the Dark Lord I grew up knowing."

She played with a curl of her hair, looping it around a finger. "We had a discussion the other day, about the blood prejudice. He said that the only way to remove the prejudice against muggleborns is to introduce a new kind of class system in the wizarding world, a system based on magical ability rather than blood."

He shook his head. "It's an idea, but to enforce it upon everyone would require a strong hand, and even then it would take years for people to accept that. I don't know about you, but with Dolores Umbridge sitting as Minister of Magic, I don't see that happening. She's a politician first and a witch second. She won't upset the current social standing because she's sitting at the top at the moment."

"Who do you think would be a good candidate for Minister of Magic?" she asked, interested. "Kingsley?"

He thought about it. "Kingsley's all right, but he's more of an Auror, really. Yes, he can enforce laws and hunt dark wizards but Minister of Magic is more than that. It also involves policy making, diplomacy, all those stuff. If you weren't a muggleborn, you would actually make a good minister, in a few years' time."

She laughed. "If it's only my blood status that's the problem, then I suppose you could run for minister yourself. We're almost matched in terms of academic achievements, and you've had experience being an enforcer during your reign as the Slytherin Prince."

He sat up suddenly. "Tom Riddle would make a good minister."

She turned serious. "No," she said, shaking her head. "Though he is intelligent and he is creative with his ideas, he's too much of a hardliner. We think of him separately from Voldemort, but the substrate for being another dark lord is still inside him."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I think you could keep him in line. He listens to you, you know."

"He does not," she said. "Because I never tell him what to do."

"You don't have to. He accommodates you," he pointed out. "It might be subtle, but I see it. I saw it before I left Hogwarts to go back to the Death Eaters, and I can only imagine that it has gotten even more obvious now that it's just the two of you left at the castle."

"What are you talking about," she demanded.

A slow smile spread across his face. "I think the young Voldemort likes you, Hermione."

She stood up and faced away from him to hide her flushing cheeks. "Don't start on me with those ideas, Malfoy," she said.

"And judging by your reaction, you don't think my idea is totally baseless. Otherwise you would have just laughed it off," he pointed out. "I'm a Slytherin, Granger. I know how to read people, and I can see that you like him. Well, maybe not like him outright, but I'm certain if you were to choose who to spend one whole day with, you'd choose him over the Weasel. He interests you more, engages you more, something the Weasel cannot do."

"He is attractive," she admitted. "But he's a potential dark lord with a broken soul. That is not something I can forget."

"No, I'm sure you can't forget that," he agreed. "But that doesn't mean you can't accept it."

She sat back down and rubbed her face with the palm of her hands. "I hate you for bringing this up. I hate you for being such an observant Slytherin."

"Granger, you shouldn't hate me for it," he said. "Because I'm not going to tell anyone about it anyway. But don't you think that if I had noticed your attraction to him, however subtle it is, Tom would have noticed it too by now? That bloke's even more Slytherin than me."

"Exactly," she said. "Sometimes I hate it that I'm too Gryffindor."

He walked over to her and patted her shoulder. "Hey, I didn't bring it up to make you uncomfortable. I did it to make you aware, if you weren't already. Don't worry, Hermione. Should you need advice in that department, Draco Malfoy the Sex God is here to help you out, considering that Potter and Weasel would be useless about it."

She shoved him away. "Advice from you? No thanks, Malfoy. I'm sure until now you're regretting even getting close to Pansy Parkinson."

He made a grimace. "Ah, you're right. And because I don't want to be reminded of my past miscalculations, let's change the topic and move on to our real business."

"Gladly," she said, facing him again.

He settled down next to her on the bed. "Avery and McNair are planning an attack on the Burrow. They raided Grimmauld Place the other day and found it empty. The Dark Lord ordered the attack on the Burrow, knowing that practically all of the Weasleys are members of the Order. So I hope the wards on the Burrow are strong enough to give them fair warning..."

* * *

"...because Avery and McNair are putting together a sizeable force to take down the Burrow. They want it to be a successful run because Voldemort was disappointed in them for not finding anything significant at Grimmauld Place," Hermione said, concluding her report in front of Kingsley and the Weasleys.

Her news was met by a heavy silence. Arthur Weasley sighed. "We knew the Burrow would be attacked sooner or later. We should be glad there is some warning. Did Draco say which day they plan to attack?"

"He doesn't know when exactly, but he says it would probably be on Thursday or Friday," Hermione said.

Kingsley was pondering on the information. "It's a question of staying here and meeting them head on in a fight, or fleeing into safety," he said slowly.

"I say we meet them and fight," Harry said bravely. "They suffered losses at the Hogwarts battle too, and we should be able to take a few of them down."

"But you should also be prepared that they might take down some of us as well," Hermione pointed out.

"I don't want to think about leaving our home without a fight," George said bluntly.

"Molly and Ginny should go someplace safe," Arthur said. "The boys and I will stay behind and wait for the Death Eaters."

"No," Ginny said loudly. "I am not going to go and leave all of you here to fight. I'm just as good as Ron in a fight, and you can't deny that we need every wand we can get."

Molly was starting to shake her head, but relented when Ginny looked at her fiercely. "Arthur, we stay together," she said softly. "Voldemort is not going to scare us away from our home, and he is not going to tear this family apart."

"So... we're fighting?" Ron asked eagerly.

"Yes," Harry said with a finality.

Kingsley nodded as well. "I shall contact others to stand with us. Minerva, Fillius and Pomona should be able to come."

"Hermione, alert the other members of the DA," Harry said. "They don't need to stay here with us, but if we are outnumbered they should be able to come at a quick notice."

Hermione nodded. "All right, I still have the coin, and I'm sure the others have kept theirs as well. If we factor in the DA, we can count on at least five more wands to come to help."

Kingsley stood up. "I will meet with the Auror Office as well. They should be ready to send reinforcements when it is obvious that the Death Eaters are attacking the Burrow. I know we don't expect the attack until three days from now but I urge you all to be mindful and think that they may come at any time."

Kingsley left, and the mood in the Weasley household remained heavy. Harry looked at Hermione. "Mione, we haven't really seen any real action since the battle of Hogwarts. Do you think we could practice dueling for the rest of the day? I remember you did pretty well when we took down those Death Eaters last week."

Hermione finished her tea. "Sure," she said. "I'll be ready whenever you two are. Ginny should join us as well."

In the end, not only Ginny, but George and Percy, too, had joined them. Ron led them to the Burrow's backgarden and they automatically paired off with each other: Harry and Ginny, Ron and Hermione, and George and Percy. Hermione regarded Ron quizzically.

"Ron, we'll start with some simple hexes, just to make sure your reaction time is still as good as before," Hermione said, twirling her wand in her hand, a mannerism she had unconsciously gotten from Tom. "I'll start on the offensive, but feel free to counterattack any time."

"Why do I get the feeling that you're being condescending?" Ron complained. Nevertheless, he got into his defensive stance just as Hermione fired a simple stinging hex at him, which he blocked successfully.

Hermione fired two more spells, a jelly legs jinx and a body binding curse, which were also blocked easily enough. She held back a grin as she shifted to using her succession technique, flowing from one spell to another until she had laced together four spells that ended with a strong reducto, which sent Ron flying into Harry.

"Ow, Hermione," Harry complained as he helped Ron up. "Are you trying to kill us?"

"No, but the Death Eaters will," Hermione said, pausing in mid cast. "It's just that we need to keep in mind that they will not be holding back. You wanted to fight them, I thought we should be good and ready for it."

Harry let go of Ron, who was still unsteady on his feet. "Okay, I understand what you mean," he said. He inclined his head towards her, indicating that he wanted to duel her, and Hermione bowed in return. As soon as she straightened up, Harry sent a stinging hex her way, which she deflected with a wave of her hand. She retaliated with a slicing hex, which Harry blocked effortlessly. Hermione flexed her fingers around her wand, sending her magic out in waves to feel Harry's aura. She knew Harry was magically more powerful than Ron, and she felt his aura, coiled and controlled, around him.

Harry waved his wand at her, crying " _Expelliarmus_!" but Hermione was ready for his favorite spell. As her wand spun out of her hand, she pulled in her magic, feeling the familiar tingle in her fingers, and she wordlessly summoned her wand back to her before Harry could grab it in midair.

" _Stupefy,_ " she said, missing Harry by a fraction of an inch.

" _Confringo! Reducto!_ " Harry said, furiously pointing his wand at Hermione.

He was fast, but there was a split second between the two spells, and Hermione summoned a shielding charm with her left hand and fired a stunning spell which hit Harry right in the middle of his chest as he wasn't ready for her offensive spell to come so soon after her shielding charm.

Harry fell to the grass with a loud thud and Hermione realized that the others had gathered as an audience by this time. She hastily waved her wand at Harry, releasing him from her spell, and he sat up, mildly dazed.

"Sorry," she said, though she sounded satisfied. "I think I've been practicing too much."

"I'll say," Ron said in awe. "I knew you were always good with a wand, Mione, but where did you learn to cast like that? You moved like you were just flowing from one spell to the next!"

She helped Harry to his feet. "I've been thinking about it since the last battle at Hogwarts," she said.

"You moved a little like Voldemort," Harry said bluntly. "Those wand movements and the fluidity of the spells."

She thought about it. "Well, he's a great duelist, and I saw him at the battle," she said in an attempt to justify the change in her spell casting. "I thought that there might be a logical way to go about dueling other than just trying to be the first one to take your opponent down. In other words, rather than allowing yourself to be fired by simple adrenaline during a battle, doing it in an analytical way might pay off more."

"It's practically impossible to think and fight at the same time," Ron said.

"Emotions run high in a battle," she said, shrugging. "It would be easy to lose yourself and end up doing heroic but stupid things. But to keep one's mind on top of things all the time... it would be a great advantage."

She took several steps away from them and demonstrated with her wand. "Some offensive spells work better stringed together because their wand movements sort of flow into one another, giving you split second advantages over your opponent. Also, switching from defense to offense is easier if you can cast with both hands and not just with your wand arm, which is what I did with Harry, catching him off guard. We've never really had proper dueling lessons, and I'm sure great duelists like Dumbledore and Voldemort didn't rise to their level of skill by randomly firing hexes in a fight."

"And you just figured all this out on your own?" Harry said, a note of admiration in his tone.

She smiled, not wanting to take all the credit for herself. "I told you, I saw how Voldemort fought in the battle. Let's just say I learned a bit from him, and worked from there. Sometimes it's also a good idea to take a page out of the enemy's book."

Harry laughed. "It would be funny to think that he's your inspiration for becoming a better duelist."

She was serious now. "Don't underestimate him, Harry. He really is one powerful wizard."

"I'm not underestimating him, Hermione," Harry said. "But when I think about it, he really doesn't have much going his way. He can't even get rid of me, and he's been trying for years. For someone so powerful, there's something really wrong with him if he can't even deal with us."

"I wouldn't be so cocky. After all, we cannot get rid of him either," she pointed out.

"What are you saying, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"I'm saying that maybe there's another way of going about this whole war other than aiming to kill each other."

"I'll stop trying to kill him if he stops trying to kill other people," Harry promised.

"A ceasefire like that sounds too good to be true," Ron said. "Not when I'm thinking that he's sending his Death Eaters to attack the Burrow anytime soon."

"Exactly," Harry said, picking up his wand. "So let's practice some more. I'm not going to allow him to kill anyone."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Friday night rolled around with nothing notable happening. Hermione felt her anxiety grow with each passing day, waiting for the attack on the Burrow. When Thursday came and went without any incident, she felt her stomach turn itself into knots. The attack would then have to happen on Friday, unless Voldemort had a change of plans, but being unable to contact Draco she could do nothing but wait.

She sat on her bed in Gryffindor tower, her DA coin lying on the sheets in front of her. Harry was supposed to alert her as soon as the attack on the Burrow started, but the sun was already setting and her coin remained inert.

Her door creaked open, and she felt Tom walk into the room after a brief knock on the door frame. When she had told him of the impending attack on the Burrow, he had listened calmly and continued their daily practices, not mentioning anything about the upcoming battle. She was fairly confident in her dueling skills, but she knew that one misstep can mean death even for the most powerful witch or wizard.

"You're anxious," Tom said, coming up to sit beside her on the bed. "Still no word from your friends?"

She shook her head. "Maybe Voldemort changed his mind."

"Maybe," he said, but the way he said it made it clear to her that he thought it unlikely. "No need to be anxious, Hermione. You're good at dueling, and you've got a smart head. That means you won't do stupid heroics that would get you killed."

"I know, I'm confident, but even the best can also fall," she said. She knew he was aware of this, it was what he detested about life... that it was finite.

"Not if they can help it," he said, taking something out of his pocket and holding it out to her.

She looked down to see the Gaunt family ring cradled in the palm of his hand. It's stone was gone, Dumbledore having removed it, but the gold band was intact and still shiny in the afternoon sun. "Your family ring," she said.

"I took it from Dumbledore's office," he said. "I put a charm on it." He gestured for her to take off her necklace, which she did, and he slipped the ring onto the chain and deftly fastened it back for her at the nape of her neck. "There is no such talisman that can protect anyone from curses like an automatic shield, our magic doesn't work that way. This won't protect you from death either, but if you get seriously injured, you just hold the ring between your fingers and say the incantation 'tutus locum' and it will transport you here to the chamber of secrets. You get yourself back to me, and I can heal you, if needed," he said.

"Oh," she said, fingering the ring lightly, touched by the gesture. "Thank you." She slipped the ring under her shirt, feeling the cool metal against her skin. "But I'll be careful anyway."

He still looked a little stern. "I am actually not pleased to be left behind this time."

She automatically put a hand over his, and for once he didn't shy away from the physical contact. "Both Harry and the Death Eaters will be after your blood if they see you there. If we manage to thin their ranks tonight, then Voldemort will be further weakened and Draco and I will find a way to get you close enough to kill him. But not tonight."

He was about to answer her when Hermione saw the DA coin glow. _Attacks starting. Calling all DA to the Burrow._

Hermione saw the coin, and for a second she felt a shiver run through her body before she got her bearings. "I should go," she said to Tom, but he had turned his hand palm up to grasp her fingers with his, forcing her to look at him.

"No heroics," he repeated.

"No heroics," she agreed. "I need to go out through the gate and apparate to the Burrow."

He didn't say anything, but he stood up and hauled her to her feet with such force that she stumbled into his tall frame. He wrapped a hand around her arm and held her firmly as he apparated them both to the Hogwarts gates. He opened the gate for her, and as she walked past him, he reminded her again.

"Remember the charm. I can't do anything if you come back to me dead," he said.

"I'll be back," she assured him, and turned on the spot, wondering what she would see once she got to the Burrow. She apparated in an empty field a distance away from the Weasley home, and against the night sky she saw several intermittent flashes around the house that signified an ongoing battle. She took a firm hold of her wand and made her way to the commotion, her senses alert for any attackers who might notice her.

It was George Weasley she first saw. He was locked in a fast-paced duel with a masked Death Eater who had managed to send him flying into a tree. Hermione put up a cushioning charm to lessen the impact just before George hit the tree, and she stepped in to engage the Death Eater, taking him down with a simple Stupefy. She bound the Death Eater with an Incarcerous and, after checking to make sure that George was all right, she pocketed the fallen Death Eater's wand and ran to look for the others.

She saw Hannah Abbott and Neville Longbottom fighting back to back with each other, holding off one Death Eater each. A few paces away, she saw Bill and Percy engaging three Death Eaters simultaneously. They didn't look like they needed any help, so she continued to run past them. She saw Kingsley and McGonagall, but she passed over them, looking for Harry and Ron.

She found her two friends in the middle of the fight. Ron was dueling with a tall and burly Death Eater which she suspected was McNair, and Harry was dueling with two Death Eaters, his seeker reflexes coming in handy as he parried hex after hex.

"Hermione!" Ron cried as he spied her.

She gave him a quick nod before sending a slicing hex to his opponent, causing the tall Death Eater to stumble. She pointed her wand at the fallen man with the binding curse on her lips, but she caught a flash of green light at the corner of her eye and she instinctively dove into Ron, knocking them both out of the way of the killer curse.

" _Expelliarmus! Incarcerous!_ " She disarmed and bound the fallen Death Eater as her eyes roamed the field, searching for the caster of the killing curse.

Her blood chilled when she locked eyes with a wild-haired witch. Bellatrix Lestrange, Voldemort's strongest supporter, had come to join the battle. The mad witch looked at Hermione tauntingly, running a hand along her left arm as if to remind the girl of the scar she had.

"Mione," Ron said beside her as she scrambled to her feet.

"I got this, Ron," she said, setting her shoulders back with determination. "It's time for her to learn that being a Mudblood doesn't mean anything at all."

She ignored Ron's protests that the older members of the Order handle Bellatrix. She heard Tom's voice in her head. No heroics, he had said, but she wasn't playing hero. She knew that this time, she could handle Bellatrix.

The older witch let out her signature manic laugh, but Hermione wasn't caught off guard when Bellatrix threw a slicing hex her way. Hermione quickly put up a shield, and decided that she wasn't going to waste time with Bellatrix. Right after she conjured the shield, her wand flew into hexes and curses that were by now very familiar to her. " _Impedimenta! Reducto! Confringo!_ "

She held back a smirk as Bellatrix stopped laughing to effectively block her spells, and Hermione used the opportunity to step to the side to get a new line of fire to Bellatrix. The Death Eater was still holding up her shield when Hermione used a new curse from Tom, sending a spray of clear liquid from the tip of her wand that seemed to corrode areas of Bellatrix's shield. When Hermione saw the shield waver she fed the spell more of her magic, only stopping when Bellatrix was forced to give ground in order to avoid her attack, her shield already broken.

" _Avada Kedavra_!" Bellatrix screamed, but Hermione had jumped out of the way well ahead of the curse.

" _Conjunctivitis_!" she said, pointing her wand and connecting with the simple spell.

As Bellatrix clawed at her eyes before reversing the spell, Hermione used the pause to summon a shield charm and, pulling her magic around her, she silently disapparated only to reappear in another part of the field, putting herself in Bellatrix's blind spot. " _Expelliarmus_ ," she hissed, and she successfully disarmed Bellatrix. " _Stupefy. Incarcerous_."

She caught Bellatrix's wand in midair, pocketing it as well. She walked over to the stupefied Death Eater, cautious as she got nearer, only to make sure that she was indeed out of the fight.

"Blimey, Mione, that was great!" Ron said, coming over to her.

She was a little winded from the rush of fighting Bellatrix, but she looked around, quickly taking stock of the situation. Harry was still battling with two Death Eaters, and she counted how many remained on either side. Kingsley and McGonagall were still fighting their respective opponents, and so were George, Percy, and Bill. Neville was still moving around with Hannah, but Hermione's heart quickened when she saw Molly Weasley lying prone on the ground, with her husband valiantly fending off three Death Eaters.

Hermione strengthened her shielding and apparated next to Arthur, stepping in to engage one of the Death Eaters. She glanced at Molly on the ground, noting with a measure of relief that she was still alive, and that Ginny was kneeling next to her, tending to her. She cast a quick protego over the mother and daughter as she moved away from them, taking the Death Eaters' attention away from the pair.

She cast a slicing hex at her opponent, followed by a stinging hex as she sent her magic in a wave that forced the man off his feet. " _Expelliarmus_!" she cried out, disarming him. She turned back to Arthur, who had defeated his opponents as well and she tossed the free wand to him. "There's only a handful of them left," she said hurriedly to the Weasley patriarch. "Bellatrix is down."

Arthur nodded grimly as he looked at his wife. "Let's get this finished, then."

He moved to help his sons against several Death Eaters, and Hermione searched for Harry. He was still battling with two Death Eaters, their wands flying in all directions. She brought her wand up and slashed at the air, hitting one of Harry's opponents with a stinging hex. The man's mask fell off to reveal the arrogant face of Antonin Dolohov, proud even as his arm was bleeding from the stinging hex he had just received.

"Your Mudblood friend has come to rescue you, Potter," Dolohov said with a sneer.

Hermione hurried over, sensing that Harry was at the end of his limit. "Surrender or leave," she said firmly. "I already took down Bellatrix Lestrange. You've clearly lost this round."

Dolohov's face tightened as he saw Bellatrix lying on the ground, with Ron watching over her. "No, I wouldn't exactly call it a loss," he said. He pointed his wand at the Burrow, casting Fiendfyre on it.

"No!" Harry yelled, forgetting to use his wand and coming at Lucius with his fists.

Dolohov waved his hand at Harry, sending him flying into the air. He raised his arms, telling the remaining Death Eaters to continue the fight as the Weasleys were looking at their burning house, stunned.

Hermione clenched her fists, telling herself not to think about the Weasley home burning, but to focus on the Death Eater who was in front of her. She was about to start dueling him when she was distracted by a scuffle across the field. She looked over to see that Ron, who had been guarding over Bellatrix, was too shocked to see his house burning that he had loosened his grip on his wand. Bellatrix, proving that she was a highly skilled witch, had overcome the stunning spell Hermione had put on her and had reached up to grab Ron's wand right out of his hand. She sent him flying into a tree and before he even landed, Bellatrix had shot a curse at Hermione.

Hermione fell over as the curse connected with her, and she felt immeasurable pain from all over her body as her skin opened in several places and her blood started to leak out. She gasped as she gripped her wand, seeing Dolohov step in front of Harry to stop him from helping her. Harry and Dolohov resumed their interrupted duel as the second Death Eater that Harry had been fighting knelt next to her.

"Granger," he said.

Hermione looked up into a pair of concerned gray eyes. It was Draco. "Don't blow your cover," she hissed, gathering the last of her strength to send a forceful blasting hex at him. He was flung away from her, and Hermione turned her head to see Bellatrix striding towards her, a gleeful look on her face. Hermione summoned barely enough of her will to force her hand to frantically pull out the chain of her necklace, her fingers finding the ring and pressing it. " _Tutus locum_ ," she whispered, and the last thing she saw before her consciousness started to slip away was Bellatrix's enraged look.

* * *

Hermione felt like she was pushing against mountains. She wanted to open her eyes, but her eyelids were to heavy, so she tried to wiggle her toes instead. She felt like she couldn't move, and she was starting to panic, her breaths becoming quicker, until she felt a hand on her arm.

"You're back at Hogwarts," Tom's cool voice washed over her. "You came back practically dead and it took a great deal out of me to heal you. You're not completely healed yet, so rest some more."

She felt his hand come up to rest on her hair, and the gesture was too kind and too tender that she finally forced her eyes open to see his face. He looked like he had suffered through a battle as well. His face looked wan, and his eyes looked a little sunken as if he had little sleep. His jaw was set with that firmness that he usually had when he was not pleased with something. They were in his bedroom in the chamber of secrets, she was lying on his bed and he was perched on the edge of it, his knee almost touching her hip.

"I was hit by a spell I didn't recognize," she said, her voice coming out dry. She licked her lips.

He drew back his hand and looked over to the table. He levitated a glass of water towards them, shifting so that he could support her with a hand at her back as she sat up to take a sip. She leaned into him after drinking, for he was warm and she was cold.

"It was an old dark curse, from what I gathered," he said, sounding a little hoarse. "I talked with Draco last night. It's Sunday afternoon, by the way. You were out for almost two days."

"Draco was there," she mumbled, turning her head into his shoulder.

He waved his hand to the fireplace, turning up the heat, and at the same time he performed a warming charm on her. "I met with him in your place last night. It was a Saturday night, remember? He didn't expect you to show after being injured as such, but I went in under disguise."

She tilted her face up to catch the corner of his mouth turn up. "You were disguised as a girl?" she asked.

He threw her a look. "Don't be absurd. I just used some simple glamours instead of the Polyjuice Potion you keep in stock."

She pushed away from him, leaning back against the headboard, warming up enough with his spell. "Thank you for healing me," she said.

He cleared his throat. "It's more complicated than that," he said slowly. "I had to use ancient rune magic to sustain you and to keep your soul from leaving your body. Then to heal your body, I used my own magic. But you've lost a large amount of blood and we don't have blood replenishing potions in stock anymore, so I had to use my own blood to replace that which you've lost."

He let his words sink in. Hermione turned her head to him in surprise. "But... your own blood?"

He nodded and he held up his right hand, showing her a healing wound on his palm. "I told you before, blood magic is strong, and blood itself is powerful, especially if given willingly. You have some of my blood in you now, and in effect, some of my power." He paused, holding her gaze. "How do you feel about that?"

She reached out and traced his wound with her finger. She didn't know how to feel about it. She knew little of blood magic, but to give someone something so personal was a big deal, especially for someone like Tom. "I don't know," she said. "How do you feel about it?"

"How I feel about it is irrelevant," he said. "I already know its significance."

"But I don't want you to begrudge me because of it," she said. "I know you value your own blood and your power, and I don't want you to regret giving me your blood."

He seized her hand and he pressed his palm against hers so she could feel the wound. "It wasn't a decision I made lightly," he assured her. "Now that the danger to your life has passed, I still don't regret it. Not if it meant saving your life. Now, how do you feel about it?"

She looked at their joined hands. "I... I don't know. It just seems so… intimate."

"It is," he agreed. "Is that good or bad?"

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his pulse against her skin. Suddenly, she felt that he wasn't asking her just about the blood magic. She bit her lip. "Nothing is entirely good or bad," she said slowly, weighing her words, thinking about their previous conversation about light and dark magic. "I suppose we shall just see how it unfolds. I am, however, glad to be alive. Thank you, Tom."

He nodded, giving her hand the lightest of squeezes before releasing it, satisfied with her answer. "You are still weak," he said, standing up to transfer to a bedside chair.

"So are you," she observed.

"Yes, the magic drained me a bit," he said. "But I will be back to my full strength by tomorrow. You might take a couple of more days before you could move around without restriction again."

She clasped her hands together and bit her lip. "Tell me about your meeting with Draco?"

"Your Order managed to catch five Death Eaters, one of them was McNair, who was part of the Inner Circle. That woman who cursed you, Bellatrix, managed to get away and so did Lucius Malfoy, so the Inner Circle is still pretty much intact. However, Draco said that you have caught Voldemort's attention, because you were able to put Bellatrix down the first time. Perhaps he senses that your dueling style is similar to his... to mine, though your curses are tame. Draco said you never used the killing curse."

"No, I only disarmed and stunned."

"If you had killed Bellatrix the first time you wouldn't have gotten hurt," he told her, the tiniest hint of exasperation in his voice. "Would you rather lose your own life than take someone else's?"

"It's not something I think about," she admitted.

He let it go at that. "Draco and I have worked on a plan to get me close to Voldemort. With McNair gone, Draco has been included in the Inner Circle, and because of the relatively successful attack on the Burrow, he has gained more favor with Voldemort. The next time Voldemort calls for a meeting with the Inner Circle, I will go in Draco's place with the Polyjuice potion, and I will kill Voldemort before the other Death Eaters arrive."

"You're going in alone?" she asked, not pleased with the idea.

"Draco will be there, though out of sight. He needs to take down the manor wards as soon as Voldemort is dead. This is where your Order will come in. If they want to finish the Death Eaters, they can storm the manor when the wards come down."

She thought about this. "If Voldemort calls for a meeting of the Inner Circle, it would mean that his top Death Eaters will be there. It will be a tough fight. Do you know if the Order members managed to escape from the Burrow unscathed?"

"They must have, because they are here," he said, frowning.

She raised her eyebrows. "Here?"

"At Hogwarts. I presume that since their present headquarters was destroyed in the Fiendfyre, they had no other safe place to stay in."

"You've been steering clear of them, I hope," she said.

He pretended to look insulted. "Do you think me foolish? It's bad enough that I had to nurse you back to health, but to do it tiptoeing around the castle like a common thief grates on my pride. Those Weasley boys tend to dominate the kitchens so I had to resort to asking the house elves to just bring me my meals here."

"Sorry about that," she said, feeling his injured pride. "With a plan in place for you taking down Voldemort, I can talk with them and tell them about you now."

"I would suggest waiting a few days," he said. "I hear them talking. They are pretty much enraged at the Death Eaters and at Voldemort at the moment so they might try to kill me on sight."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "I don't think it would be that easy to kill you."

"They can't," he said easily. "But then it would force you into a position wherein you would have to either defend me or take their side, and I want to avoid that."

"I'm not going to let them attack you, Tom," she assured him. "And I'm not going to leave you. I have a life debt. Besides, I do believe that our plan is the best way to end this war." She did not give away the fact that she saw through his words. He, who was never afraid of anything except death, was afraid that she would leave him if forced by circumstances.

"I need some food. And I need to see my friends. They must be worried about me," she added to change the topic.

"They will wonder how you could have healed so quickly," he said, hurrying to his feet to support her as she swung her legs to the side of the bed. "Just tell them you kept a stock of healing potions in a safe house somewhere. I doubt they would know the gravity of the curse that hit you so they shouldn't question your recovery with potions."

She stood up, and he stood with her, an arm on her elbow to steady her. "I think I can walk fine," she said.

"Just keep to the walls for support," he said. He released her from his grip and walked over to his bedside table, grabbing a bottle. He uncapped it and handed it to her. "Just a Pepper Up potion to help you along. Will you be coming back here later?"

"If I can get away from them," she said.

He helped her walk the stairs leading out of the chamber. "If you come back, knock five times on the sink and I'll open it for you."

She turned to him before stepping out into the girls bathroom. "Thank you again for saving me," she said. "I'll return the favor some day."

He gave her an easy smile. "I hope that day never comes."

It was almost sweet, the way he tilted his head towards her in farewell. Hermione started to make her way to her room, one hand on the wall to support her and the other touching the Gaunt family ring still hanging around her neck, hidden under her shirt. It was a little unnerving thinking that Tom had given her something so powerful and personal, but what was more curious was the way he dismissed it as something unimportant to him. She made a mental note to check on blood bonds as soon as she can.

She slowly made her way to the Gryffindor tower, and when she entered the common room she was greeted with the site of the Weasley family gathered around the fireplace. It was Ginny who first saw her, and her tired face broke out in a smile. "Hermione!" the younger girl squealed, jumping to her feet to give Hermione a hug.

"I'm all right," she said, returning the embrace.

"Mione!" Ron said, getting up to engulf her in a hug as well. "What happened? We saw you disappear right in front of us..."

"I apparated to my old house," she said. "I keep a stock of healing potions there and I just healed myself. I'm sorry if I had you all worried. What happened after I left?"

"The Burrow was completely destroyed," Harry said morosely. "We lost practically everything. We had nowhere to go, and Professor McGonagall said we could use Hogwarts until it reopens for class."

"Kingsley is setting up a new headquarters for the Order," Arthur said. "He's considering Shell Cottage, but it's nowhere as large as Grimmauld Place or the Burrow. It will have to do, though."

Hermione sat down on the couch beside Harry, who gave her an odd look. "You should have killed Bellatrix when you had the chance," he said.

"Maybe," she agreed. "But I couldn't bring myself to cast the killing curse."

"Hermione, she tortured you and scarred you for life, and you still think she didn't deserve to die?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"It's not in me to kill people so easily, Harry," she said tiredly. "Yes, it was a bad decision on my part, but I can't bring myself to do it. Ron was supposed to stand guard over her."

"I'm sorry, but seeing my home burning distracted me," Ron said heatedly.

Hermione drew back. "I'm sorry, too," she said. "I didn't mean to imply that you were to blame."

"There is no place here for blaming," Arthur said just as wearily. "We simply have to move on from here."

"How is Molly?" Hermione asked.

"Recovering," Arthur answered. "She will be fine, but she won't be joining us for duels any time soon."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Draco and I are working on a plan," she assured them. "We should be ready to move in one or two weeks. I'm hungry, though. I haven't had a proper meal since the battle. Have you all had your tea?"

"We have," Ginny said, jumping to her feet again. "But I'll go to the kitchens and have the elves make you something."

"So what's this plan that you and Draco are working on?" Harry asked.

"Draco's been taken into the Inner Circle," she said. "Someone will have to go in Polyjuiced as Draco and kill Voldemort. When he's dead, Draco will take down the manor wards and we can go in and deal with the rest of the Death Eaters. It will be a big operation, so we need more wands, more than what we had at the Burrow."

"But what about Voldemort's soul? You said we need to kill the other soul in order to kill Voldemort completely."

"Or we could sever the tie between the two souls," she said. "I told you. I'm still working on a spell for that."

"You've been working at it for weeks," Harry complained.

She threw him a look. "You're welcome to help me research on soul magic," she said, irritated. "But no, you're just happy leaving me to do all the research while you wait for the chance to cast the killing curse on Voldemort. What made you so trigger happy, Harry? You know things don't just get resolved by simple killing."

"This war has dragged on long enough," Harry said. "Voldemort needs to die, and the sooner I do it, the better. Even if I have to go in Polyjuiced as Draco."

"Maybe burn Malfoy Manor to the ground while you're at it," Ron said bitterly.

"Not a bad idea," Harry said.

Hermione looked at them disapprovingly. "It's Draco's home too, you know," she told them. "If you burn it to the ground you'll be practically inviting him to live with the rest of you as he has nowhere else to go."

"Okay, scratch that idea," Harry mumbled, putting a hand over his eyes. "Draco was dueling me along with Dolohov that night, and everything was going too fast, but I could have sworn that he had shot a couple of shielding charms my way without anyone noticing. So you were right about him, Hermione. He did mean well when he said he was leaving the Death Eaters."

"You should have believed me right at the start," she sighed. "I do have a sixth sense about these things."

"Kingsley is coming here tomorrow. We are going to make an updated list of the Order, then we can see who we can call on for the assault on Malfoy Manor," Harry said.

"Harry, when you said we lost everything in the Burrow fire, did you mean you lost your Marauder's Map as well?" she asked.

"Yes, and my father's invisibility cloak," he said. "I would have thought the cloak at least would survive, but it was Fiendfyre so everything was destroyed. How do you stop Fiendfyre anyway?"

"It's only the caster who can control it. Otherwise if left by itself it just burns out but after a long time," Hermione answered, somewhat relieved that at least Harry didn't have his map anymore.

She looked up when she saw that Ginny had returned with a tray of food for her. She settled the tray on her lap as she ate, idly listening to Harry and Ron talk about the remaining members of the DA. Ginny sat next to her to engage her in conversation.

"We were really worried about you," the younger girl said. "Harry tried contacting you through the DA coin but you didn't answer."

"I haven't really taken a look at it," she admitted, letting the tomato soup warm her bones. "So did you all come here straight from the Burrow?"

"Yes. The battle went on for a good bit after you'd gone, in the end George and Percy fell, and more Death Eaters came on the scene so we had to flee. We've managed to catch a few Death Eaters, they've been sent to the Ministry, but the Order ended up losing more than what we gained."

Hermione put an arm around Ginny. "I'm sorry you lost your home."

"Me too," she said bravely. "But it doesn't matter to me, Hermione. I'd rather lose all my things rather than lose someone else in the family, or you or Harry." She lowered her voice. "I'm worried about Harry. Ever since the attack on the Burrow, he's been going on and on about just storming the manor and killing Voldemort. It's taking my father and Bill everything they have to keep him from going off. I think Harry feels guilty for us losing our home. I keep telling him it's all going to be all right, but I feel like he's coming to pieces."

"Which is why I'm partly glad that we've come to Hogwarts now. At least you're here. I'm worried about Harry and Ron being without you... you were always the rational one between the three of you. Maybe Harry will be better now that you're here."

Hermione cut into her steak silently. "It's not so easy as that, Gin," she said just as quietly. "Harry doesn't depend on me as much as before. It's like he's come into his own, and he has taken this fight against Voldemort on his own shoulders. I do have a plan to end this war, but it would take an enormous amount of trust coming from the Order."

"Hermione, if you could get them to trust you with Draco Malfoy, then I don't think that anything is impossible with you."

Hermione sighed. "Draco was easy."

Ginny looked at her closely. "What do you mean, Hermione?"

She bit her lip. "The next part of my plan would ask too much of the Order, and of Harry. I can't tell you about it yet, but in a few days, Gin. I'll tell you in a few days. I need to speak with Draco first."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Having the Weasleys and Harry at Hogwarts had its pros and cons for Hermione. She was thankful for the company, especially Ginny's, but at the same time she found it hard to slip away to visit Tom in the chamber of secrets. She had told him that Harry had lost his map, so Tom could wander around the castle as long as he steered clear of the others, and he took advantage of this, being skilled enough with a disillusionment charm to hide if needed.

They had resumed dueling each other, and Tom had more to teach her on the matter of their blood bond.

"You have part of me in you now," he said, facing her squarely. "Although the connection is one way, it still exists. You can feel my magic through yours, if you try."

She locked eyes with him as she sought out his magic, and as opposed to before the blood bond when she can only sense his magic, she now felt her magic intertwine with his, moving harmoniously with each other. She was delighted with the interaction. "It's like our magic know each other," she said. "But what do you mean when you said the connection is only one way?"

"I only gave you my blood, you haven't given me yours," he said.

"Oh. Should I?" she asked.

He shook his head. "You don't have to."

"But it would seem unfair to you," she said. "I have your blood, which means I can draw on your magic to augment mine, right? But it doesn't work the other way around. You can't draw on my magic."

"I don't need to," he said.

"And your fine with the idea that I can draw your magic any time?" she asked doubtfully.

He flashed her a smile. "You're a Gryffindor, Hermione. I am quite sure you wouldn't use it against me."

She put her wand away, done with practicing for the day. "I thought you didn't trust easily."

"It wasn't easy," he told her. "If I could have saved your life some other way, I wouldn't have given you something so precious to me."

"You wouldn't, unless there is something for you to be gained in the process," she said.

He tipped his head to the side. "I already told you I didn't want to lose you."

"There must be something else," she insisted. "You are a Slytherin as much as I am a Gryffindor, maybe even more so."

"With a brain like yours, you could also be a Ravenclaw. Yes, there is something else," he admitted. "But I will leave it to you to figure it out. And no, it's not dark magic."

"I knew it. When I figure it out and I don't like it, I will kill you," she said, crossing her arms in a huff.

He chuckled at this. "I highly doubt it, Hermione."

She shook her head, forgetting for a moment that she had actually threatened him. "You could be so…" Her voice trailed off when she couldn't find the right words. Infuriating? Intriguing? She decided to let it go and changed the topic. "Where did Draco set the next meeting?"

"Seven in the evening tomorrow at the Leaky Cauldron," he said.

She groaned. "So we're back to the dingy place."

"You're fully recovered, yes?"

"Yes," she answered. "And come next week, I'll introduce you to the Order."

He fell quiet at this. "You think they're ready?"

"They'll have to be, if you and Draco are going to make your move on Voldemort soon," Hermione said firmly.

He let out a long breath. "Your friends seem to be particularly stubborn. I presume they are Gryffindor as well?"

She nodded. "When the time comes for me to tell them, I'll do it without you present, first. That way, if they don't accept you, you won't have to deal with them directly."

"You don't have to worry about me," he said.

"I'm not," she said. "I'm worried about what you'll do to them if they attack you."

"True, and rightly so," he said.

* * *

It was a somber Draco that had come to meet her at the Leaky Cauldron that Saturday night.

"The Dark Lord has set a meeting for the Inner Circle on Wednesday evening," he said. "Will the Order be ready to move by then?"

Hermione put a hand to her chest, trying to calm her nerves. "Kingsley has put together a list of people. We number about thirty wands."

"There will be about ten senior Death Eaters present, and another ten junior Death Eaters. However, I think Fenrir Greyback and his pack will be around, as well as several Snatchers, so we should expect forty to fifty opponents at the manor," he said, frowning at the uneven odds.

"We will have the element of surprise, so it should be fine," she said.

"You weren't fine at the last battle," he pointed out. "I know that curse my aunt used. I'm surprised to see you up and about in just a week. Tom healed you?"

"Yes," she said, tucking her legs up against her stomach so she could rest her chin on her knees. "He used blood magic, Draco."

He froze. "You're blood-bonded with him?"

"Only halfway, I didn't give him my blood," she said. "But I feel his power in me, part of it. There is a vague connection between us, and I don't know how to feel about it."

He sat down next to her. "Well, other than being attuned to him, you don't have anything to fear. It's the other way around. Since you have part of him in you, you can draw magic from him, but he doesn't have your blood in him so he can't use your magic the way you can use his. Is he aware of this?"

"Yes, he said that it's fine with him," she said, worried. "I promised myself that I wouldn't overthink it, but I can't help myself, Draco. It's not in his nature to be so generous. Is it wrong for me to trust him with this?"

"I'd be wary," he said, looking at her closely. "But I think it's already too late for you. You already trust him, don't you, Granger?"

"I do," she admitted.

He put a hand to his forehead in frustration. "You know how the Dark Lord is. You know Tom. You're right, he's not generous, so he must be expecting something back. Whatever that thing is, we don't know. But I do have reason to believe that Tom wouldn't hurt you. He and Voldemort are of the same nature. They don't care about others the way normal people do, but they know how to appreciate those that have value to them. Tom values you, that's why he saved your life. You mean something to him. Just... just don't let it get to you. You're a bleeding heart, Granger. Whatever you do, just don't go and fall in love with him or something."

She said nothing, and Draco's eyes bulged. "Bloody hell? Granger!"

"I'm not falling in love with him," she said, rolling her eyes. "He's just… he's fascinating."

Draco shot to his feet and he began pacing back and forth. "This is the sort of thing you have to be careful about. You know he's charismatic when he wants to be, and I don't want you invested in him when he suddenly turns his charms off to reveal his true nature."

"I know how Tom Riddle is," she shot back. "Besides, it's not like I don't know what I'm getting myself into. Why did we get off topic? Can we go back to our plans?"

He came back to sit beside her again. "Sure. Wednesday night is the night. Meetings start at seven in the evening. I can get Tom into the manor a quarter of an hour before that, it should give him enough time to deal with Voldemort. Once Voldemort is dead, I will drop the manor wards and the rest of the Order can come in. Only..."

"What?"

"Granger, you'd better get the Order properly on board for this. Tom has to be successful in killing Voldemort. Otherwise I will be really, really dead."

"I'll talk with the Order tomorrow," she said. "Harry's too pumped up about ending things with Voldemort, so he'll definitely welcome the chance to storm the manor."

"What do you think he'll say about Tom?"

She leaned back and sighed. "I don't know. I'll try to break it to them gently, without Tom present. I shouldn't have kept it a secret for so long, but I couldn't find a better time to tell them."

He thought about it. "Well, we all know you're smart, and frankly, if it weren't for you, Potter wouldn't have gotten through his adventures intact. He should at least know that you've thought these things through. Although it might not be a good idea to tell him you've got the hots for Tom Riddle. Especially not in front of the Weasel. Might give them both a heart attack."

* * *

Sunday morning found Hermione sitting in the Great Hall. The current occupants of Hogwarts had just finished brunch, but she wasn't able to eat much. They were waiting for Kingsley to arrive for another meeting. Harry and Ginny were sitting together, and George was sitting with Bill. Percy and Arthur had taken their meal in the Gryffindor tower to keep Molly company. Hermione was playing with her fork when Ron sat down next to her.

"How did your meeting with Malfoy go last night, Mione?" He asked.

"I'll tell when Kingsley gets here," she said. "It's quite complicated and I don't want to repeat myself."

Harry heard them talking and came over with Ginny in tow. "Has Malfoy been behaving himself?"

"Well, he still has some snide remarks, but that's nothing I can't handle," she said. "Draco will always be Draco."

She dropped her fork on her plate when the doors of the Great Hall opened and Kingsley strode in. He gave them all a hearty smile and Ginny pushed a plate towards him. "Have something to eat first, Kingsley," the redhead said.

Kingsley waved the plate away, though he helped himself to a cup of tea. "Hermione, any news from Draco?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "Draco and I talked last night, and we've got a plan to end Voldemort once and for all."

Harry leaned forward eagerly. "Let's hear it," he said.

"Remember when I told you that Voldemort has another piece of his soul left alive like another horcrux?" she said slowly, meeting everyone's eyes. "When Tom Riddle's diary was destroyed in the chamber of secrets years ago, his horcrux was destroyed but his soul remained trapped in the chamber. When Ron and I destroyed the cup in the chamber last month, the soul that was released caused some old magic in the chamber to resurrect Tom Riddle and give his souls a corporeal form. That is the part of his soul that anchored Voldemort to this world, which is why Harry wasn't able to kill him in that battle."

Everyone was stunned into silence. "So we've got two Voldemorts now?" Ron asked.

"One Voldemort, the other one looks like Tom Riddle from his Hogwarts days," Hermione said.

"Wait... you've seen him?" Harry asked.

"Well, yes, I've spoken with him, in an attempt to figure out what happened and how we could go from here," she said, holding up her hands as Harry's face reddened. "I wasn't in any danger. He was curious about what was happening in the present time, and he had no idea about the First or the Second Wizarding war. This Tom is different from the Voldemort we've been fighting, Harry. In fact, he's interested in helping us defeat Voldemort."

"Why, so he can take over for himself?" Harry asked. "Hermione, Tom Riddle has a natural charisma. You shouldn't believe him when he says such things. Why would he kill Voldemort? It would be like killing himself!"

"Because if Voldemort finds out that Tom exists, he will use Tom to make his regeneration potion. You heard Draco's reports, Voldemort wants to rebuild his body. Tom would be the perfect candidate for that. Which is why he's going to help us defeat Voldemort. It's for his own safety."

"I don't believe he's going to help us," Ron said.

"He's been helping us," Hermione said. "He's been helping me. He's the one who taught Draco how to be a good Occlumens, he's taught me how to improve my dueling style, and he was the one who healed me when I got hurt last week in the battle at the Burrow."

"You've known all this time and you didn't say anything!" Harry yelled at her.

Hermione stood up to match him. "Because I knew you were going to react this way and I wanted to wait until I find a way to defeat Voldemort for sure! Harry, he's the only one that can kill Voldemort. If you face Voldemort again, you still won't be able to kill him because his soul is anchored to this world. Tom can sever that bond between them, and then Voldemort will be vulnerable. That's the plan. Tom is going in Polyjuiced as Draco in order to get close enough to Voldemort. He kills Voldemort, Draco drops the wards, and we come in to destroy the remaining Death Eaters."

Ron narrowed his eyes. "Draco knows about this other Voldemort?"

"Yes, because we needed help with Draco's occlumency," she said.

"But Hermione, it would be easier to kill this younger Voldemort now, then go after the older one," Harry said, gripping his wand.

"You can't," she said.

"Why not?" Harry asked.

"For one thing, I'm not sure if his soul is anchored to Voldemort just as Voldemort's is anchored to his."

"Where is he, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"I'm not bringing him in front of you until you promise to give this plan a chance," she said firmly. "Harry, I can feel your magic. You're just about ready to attack, and he's not even here. Kingsley, please, it's worth giving it a shot. In terms of power, he's a match to Voldemort. I'm confident sending him in for the job, the same way I was confident sending Draco in to spy when he was good and ready."

"Hermione, I'm sure he can take on Voldemort. It's the afterwards that we're worried about," Kingsley said.

"We can deal with that if needed later on, Kingsley. Right now, it's the other Voldemort that's hunting us, killing Muggleborns, and keeping this war going. And if we succeed and Tom turns out to be another threat, then it would be easier to kill him if necessary," she reasoned out, her voice catching slightly at the thought of killing Tom.

"Hermione, where is he?" Harry asked again.

She crossed her arms. "I'm not telling until you calm yourself down, Harry."

"Why are you defending him?" Ron asked. "It's the same with Malfoy!"

"I'm not defending him! It's a good plan. It's my plan, not his, not Draco's," she said. "I'm just asking you to give it a chance."

Harry was looking at her testily. "You're really not telling us where he is?"

"Not until you calm down," she said firmly.

She was unprepared for what Harry did next. He flung his wand at her, and she noticed that he was holding the Elder Wand. "Harry?" she asked, confused.

" _Legilimens_!" Harry yelled, forcing himself into Hermione's mind.

Hermione wasn't a trained Occlumens, but she had spent enough time practicing on her own to know that she had to shield her mind. She hastily constructed her shields, but Harry was relentless. He continued to bore into her mind, his magic quite the opposite of Tom's Legilimens. She mentally screamed as Harry tore through her first layer of shields, wondering why none of the others were helping her. "Stop," she said weakly, sinking to her knees, but Harry followed her to the floor, maintaining the contact between their minds.

Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall opened with such force that they were blasted off its hinges. Everyone except Harry and Hermione, who were still locked in a battle of minds, looked up to see Tom Riddle striding into the hall, his face the picture of quiet rage. He held his hand up and hissed an expelliarmus at Harry, disarming him. With a wave of the Elder Wand, he sent a force to the group huddled around Hermione, sending them flying away from her in all directions.

"That is enough," he said coldly to Harry, who was struggling back onto his feet.

Tom walked over to Hermione and knelt down beside her, putting a hand to her temple. She sighed at his touch, the pain in her head lessening a fraction, but she still felt weak and broken after Harry's poorly performed Legilimency. "Pull on my magic," he said to her in a low voice. "It will help your mind recover faster."

She shook her head. "They're going to attack you," she whispered. "Because you attacked them."

"He was practically raping your mind, Hermione," he said, getting to his feet, weighing the Elder Wand in his hand. He turned his attention to Harry. "Your Legilimency was poorly done. You could have destroyed her mind. Do you know what a shame it would be to lose a mind as brilliant as hers?" He pointed his wand at Harry, but then several wands pointed back at him.

"No, don't fight," Hermione gasped, grabbing at Tom's hand, but it was too late.

Several different jets of light flew towards Tom, an assortment of curses, which he deflected with a shield charm so strong that it was almost in the visible range. Tom didn't pause, hauling Hermione to her feet and gripping her at the waist. He shifted, disapparating only to apparate at a different spot in the Great Hall, firing curses as he did so. He hit Ron with a stunning spell, and was now dueling Kingsley, Bill, George and Ginny simultaneously.

If there was any doubt before that Tom Riddle was less powerful than Voldemort, it was quickly dispelled as soon as the fight broke out. Tom was holding his own against four opponents, his wand a blur of movement as he shifted locations within the Great Hall, his other arm supporting Hermione who had not recovered yet. He parried multiple curses while sending a few out on his own, and even when Arthur and Percy joined in the fray after having heard the commotion all the way from Gryffindor tower, he still managed not to get hit.

The fight continued for several minutes, and Hermione's headache subsided enough to allow her to stand on her own. She shrugged off Tom's arm around her waist and brought up her hand, casting a Protego around them both in time to stop Bill's Jelly Legs jinx from connecting. They stood back to back, surrounded by seven of the Order, and Hermione fired an Impedimenta at Ginny, who was getting ready to cast her Reducto.

The fight appeared to be a stalemate, until Harry crawled over Ron's stunned form to grab his wand. He had gone unnoticed by Tom, and Harry remained crouched on the ground, unmoving. As soon as Hermione's shield dissipated, he swung his wand up and yelled, " _Sectumsempra_!"

Tom whirled around, his arm shooting out to herd Hermione behind him on instinct, and flicked his wrist to conjure a shield. However, Harry's spell slipped past the shield a split second before Tom could reinforce it, and hit Tom square in the chest. Deep cuts appeared on his arms and torso, forcing him to fall on his knees, and Hermione looked down at him in horror.

"No!" she cried, grabbing onto his shoulder. She would have helped him, but Harry was running towards them, his wand still raised. She raised her hand to Harry. "Harry, stop! Stop!"

But Harry wasn't listening. He thrust his wand forward, aimed at Tom. " _Avada kedavra_!"

Hermione froze. She had not expected Harry to use the killing curse, and she knew it was unblockable. Tom was in no condition to physically dodge the curse, but as the jet of green light shot towards them, she felt Tom's magic coiling around them, his face, though bleeding, a look of concentration. He grabbed her arm, and Hermione felt the pressure of an apparition in progress. However, unlike her previous side-along with Tom, this one was rough, and she felt the pressure even more around every inch of her body as Tom fought to break through Hogwarts' anti-apparition wards.

When she thought she couldn't last a moment longer before she either suffocated or got hit by the killing curse, the sensation stopped, and she stumbled, still holding onto Tom, onto a familiar carpet.

"Tom!" she said urgently, bending over his form. She looked around to see where he had taken them, and was surprised to see the interior of her old house. Of course. It was the only safe location Tom would know in the Muggle world. "Oh, Great Godric," she muttered, feeling his pulse, which was fast and thready. He was losing too much blood.

She quickly got her wand and levitated him to her bed in her old room. She cut open the front of his shirt, her eyes raking over the web of gashes on his torso. She touched the tip of her wand onto the deepest wound. " _Vulnera sanentur... vulnera sanentur... vulnera sanentur..._ " she whispered, watching the wounds close at an agonizingly slow pace. She had managed to stop the bleeding, but he remained unconscious. She probed his magic, and was alarmed to see that it was barely flickering. After fighting off several opponents in a high-powered match, his magic had been completely drained when he had forced himself through the Hogwarts wards.

She knew a wizard's health was tied to his magic, for it was magic that allowed wizards to live longer than muggles. She gazed at his face, coming to a decision. "It's time to return the favor," she said to him.

She had only read about blood magic rituals recently, but she knew the basic spell. She took her wand and used magic to cut a line across her left palm. Squeezing her hand, she let the drops of her blood fall on his healing wounds. " _My blood, into your blood, becomes our blood_ ," she said softly, watching the blood seep through the wound. She then pressed her palm over his heart, smearing a hand-shaped blood print on his chest. " _My magic joins with yours_." She traced the tip of her wand over her hand, recalling the pattern she had seen in the book.

She felt the connection between them, and she saw him stir. "You completed the bond," he rasped, his eyes still shut.

She bent over him, her forehead touching his, her hand still over his heart. "Yes. Take my magic. You need it," she said tiredly.

He didn't answer, but she felt him draw on her power until she was too weak to remain awake. She fell on top of him, sleep claiming her.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Hermione's eyes fluttered open and were greeted by a soft orange hue. She was in her bed, alone, and it was the light of the setting sun that was pouring into her room. She sat up slowly, remembering what had happened prior to her passing out. She had completed the blood bond with Tom, saving his life. She pondered on this as she tested her magic. It was still recovering, but the power was there.

She looked around to see Tom sitting on the floor by the door, leaning against the wall. His torso was bare, since she had ripped his shirt open, and she could see the criss-crossing scars from the Sectumsempra. He looked pale, but she was satisfied that he was no longer on the brink of death. "Should you be really out of bed?" she asked. "You were dying just a few hours ago."

He gestured towards her bed. "There is only one bed. I wasn't about to kick you out of it, and I was uncertain how you would feel if you woke up next to me."

She shook her head and motioned for him to come over, patting the mattress beside her. "I shared a tent with two boys almost all of last year. I'm not about to begrudge you a comfortable bed."

Mentioning Harry and Ron, though indirectly, caused her stomach to twist in knots. She buried her face in her hands and groaned. "Gods, that was a mess with the Order this morning. I knew Harry was hot-headed about Voldemort, but to actually cast a killing curse... This is all your fault!"

He raised his eyebrows. "Pardon?"

"Why did you have to come running to the Great Hall? I was still talking to the Order regarding your involvement."

He held up a hand. "Hermione, you were done talking. When I entered the Great Hall, you were on your knees suffering from an amateur legilimens. I actually thought that he would stop after he couldn't get through your outer shields, but when he started clawing away at everything I had to come and get you. Did you really want him shredding your mind apart?"

"Were you listening outside the door?" she asked.

"Yes, I was, and if he had continued it, he might have destroyed your mind. I'm sure you wouldn't want that."

"Now the Order will only be more convinced that you wouldn't cooperate with them. You attacked them," she said.

"They attacked me," he said. "I only raised my wand that first time to keep them away from you, since you looked like you needed some air. And you might have forgotten, Hermione, but I wasn't the one who used the killing curse."

"I know," she said quietly.

"If I was fighting with the intention to kill, I wouldn't have lost that fight," he said calmly.

"I know," she said, sighing. "Now come over here and lie down, Tom. You haven't recovered fully yet, and my floor isn't very comfortable. I don't mind having you lie down here. There's probably an extra mattress in the loft, I can bring it down for tonight."

She swung her feet down and rose to her feet. "We're in the muggle world, and the Order won't be able to follow us here. Harry and Ron have never been to my house. As for food... I'll just walk to the shop a few blocks away and get us enough to last us a few days. I'll let Harry cool off for a bit, then I'll talk to him again. It's really stupid. He can't kill Voldemort without you."

He got up and sat down on the now empty bed. "Do you feel well enough to go out?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm not the one who got sliced open this time," she said, getting her coat and slipping it on. "You rest some more. Dinner will be ready when you wake up."

"Thank you," he said somewhat stiffly, unaccustomed to showing gratitude.

She shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. However, when she was alone in the shop looking at the ready made meals and frozen dinners, she admitted it was a big deal. She was blood bound to Tom, completely, and the connection ran both ways now. Would he take advantage of it? Would he take advantage of her? Had she put too much faith in him by mistake?

Half an hour later, laden with two carrier bags full of necessities, she walked back to her house with more questions and no answers. She deposited one of the bags in the kitchen before returning to her room to find Tom sleeping. She bit her lip as she gazed at his scarred torso. She didn't have essence of dittany, so the scars would be permanent. She set the other carrier bag beside the bed. It contained several shirts and two pairs of trousers that she had gotten for him.

She returned to the kitchen and turned on the refrigerator. She was thankful that she never had the water and the electricity cut off. As the refrigerator cooled, she placed her purchases inside and went to the loft, where boxes left by her parents were stored. She found the box that contained her mother's old clothes. They were a little too big for her, but it was nothing a transfiguration charm wouldn't be able to fix.

When she peered into her room, she found that Tom was already up, in the process of buttoning up one of the shirts she had gotten him. He turned to her and nodded in greeting. "I bought some food. I'll heat it up and bring them up here," she said.

"No, I can go downstairs," he said. "Eating in bed makes me feel like an invalid."

He followed her to the kitchen, where she heated some of the frozen dinner she had gotten. She set the box of lasagna in front of him and handed him a plastic fork. "Most of the utensils have gone," she said. She settled down in front of him and dug into her own food. "I think we can stay here for a few days. I need to contact Kingsley. I should talk to him before I talk to Harry, he's more level-headed."

"Why do you put so much faith in your Order even after they disregarded you?" he asked.

"I've been friends with Harry and Ron for seven years," she explained. "I know they can be thick-headed sometimes, but their hearts are always in the right place. They're both impulsive, and it's always been me who gives the voice of reason."

"But you're not with them right now, you're with me," he pointed out. "So who's giving them the voice of reason now?"

"They will listen to me," she said confidently. "Eventually."

He leaned on the table. "You are confusing."

She raised her eyebrows. "How?"

"You are a very intelligent girl, I have seen that for myself. Yet this faith you have in your friends defies all logic. It is blind."

"That's why it's called faith," she said.

"Harry, whom you consider your friend, deliberately trespassed into your personal boundaries. In addition to that, he cast a killing curse in your direction without a thought whether it will hit you or not. Tell me, does that not say anything about his faith, or lack thereof, in you? I'm finding it difficult to wrap my head around this concept of friendship you have with them. Friendship, unlike love, involves reciprocation. It is an exchange. If you trust in him, then he should trust in you."

She finished her meal before answering him. "It's because I understand where Harry is coming from. He's had enough of this war. He's been chased by Voldemort since he was a baby. Of course he'll look for the easiest way to finish him off. Besides, the killing curse he threw at you was a desperate act, because of that wand." She nodded to the Elder Wand, which Tom had placed on the table beside his hand.

"Is it a special wand?" he asked, picking it up.

"Are you familiar with the Deathly Hallows?" she asked him in return.

"Yes. That stone that used to be on my family ring was the resurrection stone," he said.

She looked at him, shocked. "You knew?"

"Yes." He looked at the wand. "So I presume this is the Elder Wand?"

She nodded. "Yes. That was the wand that Harry uses against Voldemort."

He was fascinated. "I have been researching information about the Deathly Hallows while I was at Hogwarts. I didn't think I would come by the Elder Wand by accident."

"How did you know your ring had the resurrection stone?"

"When I found out that I was Slytherin's heir, I tried to trace back my ancestry as far as it went. I came across the Peverell brothers."

"Well, Harry is descended from the Peverells too. He has the invisibility cloak, but it was destroyed in the fire at the Burrow," she told him.

He frowned. "Shame. It has always been said that he who obtains all three hallows would be master of death. Did Voldemort not attempt to get all of the hallows?"

"No, only the Elder Wand. He thought it would allow him to beat Harry," she said.

He set the wand down. "It's no different than any other wand," he said.

"I thought it was supposed to be the unbeatable wand?"

"If it was unbeatable, then I wouldn't have been injured this morning," he pointed out. "Didn't I tell you before? Magic comes from within us, the wands just help channel it. If it truly is an unbeatable wand, then it shouldn't have changed hands so often."

"True," she murmured. "But I thought you believed in the Deathly Hallows?"

"There must be some truth in the tale, but it distinctly said that one would be the master of death if he had all three of the hallows. With the resurrection stone and the invisibility cloak gone, the wand loses part of its power, I suppose."

They fell to silence again as they finished their dinner. Hermione cleared up the table before they returned to the bedroom. She had levitated the spare mattress she had gotten from the loft into a corner of her old room and transfigured it into a proper bed. She went into her bathroom to wash up and change into a fresh set of clothes for sleeping, and by the time she came out Tom had settled himself under the covers of the spare bed.

"Good night," she said as she switched the light off.

"Good night," his voice floated from the darkness.

She drifted off to sleep, snuggling into her sheets that still carried the faint scent of Tom from that afternoon. She was tired, and she felt lost without her friends, but she knew that she would have done the same thing in saving Tom's life if given another chance. As she sank deeper into slumber, she resolved that she was going to find a way to defeat Voldemort while keeping Tom alive.

* * *

It took three days for Tom to fully recover. By Thursday morning, Hermione woke up to find him in her backgarden, strengthening the wards around her house. He was back to his former self, no longer careful about his physical exertion, and by the time afternoon rolled around he was bored enough to venture into her loft to sift through the old things her parents had left behind.

She found him sitting cross-legged on the floor, looking through old photo albums that contained no pictures of her. He looked up when she joined him. "You removed yourself from the pictures as well," he said.

"Yes, I had to remove every trace of myself," she said, settling down beside him. "Why did you end up here in the loft?"

"There's nothing else to do," he said simply, replacing the photo album back in its box. "Besides, we have known each other a few months now, and even before we met you already knew so much about me. I realized that I knew so little about you in return, but I was loathe to ask you about it."

"Why? You can ask me anything," she said.

"Not really. I know you hate talking about the war," he said.

"You're right," she admitted, thankful for his perception. "But I can't really avoid talking about the war. And it's gotten more confusing now, because there are three sides now: Voldemort, the Order, and you in between the two of them."

"Whose side are you on?" he asked, fixing her with his intense gaze.

"Obviously not Voldemort's," she said. "But I can't choose between you and the Order, Tom."

"Hermione, I think the Order already made that choice for you," he said.

"Well, they'll just have to unmake it," she said crossly. "Honestly, if they think with their brains for a second and not with their hearts..."

He surprised her by chuckling, the sound a deep rumble in his throat. "I don't think you can begrudge them their Gryffindor nature. You are the same, but to a lesser degree. I would have scorned such feelings, but if you didn't have such a big heart, I wouldn't be here right now."

"My actions have always been well thought out," she protested.

"If you think about it logically, it would have been simplest and easiest to have gotten rid of me right at the start rather than maneuver through all of this mess that we are in right now," he said. "But you didn't follow that step, because your idea of righteousness wouldn't let you. You have a Gryffindor's nobility, but unlike your friends whose sense of nobility is tainted by their impulsiveness, yours is tainted by your intellect, which I find very fascinating."

"Fascinating?" she repeated, sounding anything but intelligent as she realized that he was looking at her closely.

"Your intellect and your heart. One tempered by the other. Your logic says one thing and your heart another, and you walk a fine line between the two of them and manage to stay true to yourself. Ordinarily I would have said it's your weakness, but it is precisely because of that, that you have helped me so much and I have gained so much."

She scoffed at this. "Gained what, exactly? You almost got killed, and we are no closer to completing our plan with Voldemort."

He shook his head, still inching closer until his nose was almost touching her cheek. "I want to try something," he said softly. "Just… play along."

She didn't have time to answer before his hand was up, tender fingers caressing her jawline as he brushed his lips against her cheek. His lips were soft on her skin, the sensation not the least bit unpleasant that when he coaxed her to turn her head with a gently pressure from his fingers, she complied, letting him claim her lips. It started out as chaste, one brush, then another, then she wanted more, closing her eyes and leaning into him.

He understood, and wrapping both arms around her, he pulled her onto his lap as he angled his head to deepen their kiss. Her mouth yielded under his, and as she let him into her mouth, their tongues engaged in that slow sensuous dance that made her feel light and heady. She only felt him, his mouth on hers, his breath ghosting her cheek, his arms around her waist as his hands supported her back, and his hardness pressing against her thigh.

 _What was that?_ Her eyes flew open and she drew back from him sharply.

She had broken their kiss so abruptly that she caught his expression briefly, his eyes closed, his eyelashes a stark contrast against his skin, his mouth slightly open in mid-kiss, before he opened his eyes with the slightest hint of annoyance at being interrupted. She looked down to see his erection pressing against her, and she had to tear her eyes away from it, steer her thoughts away from the dangerously delicious scenarios she was starting to visualize in her mind, as she slid off his lap. "Tom?" she asked.

He only had to look at her eyes, and the deepening blush on her chin, to know what she had realized. He straightened up, letting his arms fall away from her shoulders. "Yes, Hermione?"

She met his eyes, raised an eyebrow at him. Was he really going to make her say the obvious out loud? Wordlessly, she lifted a hand, waving it in front of his person. "I take it your experiment worked? Something to do with the blood bond?"

He allowed himself a small smile. "Well, apparently, I wasn't able to kiss you senseless." He paused. "I suspected it did. Blood is a powerful medium, especially when given willingly, I told you that before. I wasn't expecting it to turn out this way. I realized when I had recovered that I felt… different. I would apologize for the method of my experimentation, but I think you enjoyed yourself as much as I did."

"Really? Really?" she said, her hands flying to her waist in a flash of indignation before she looked at him. She took a deep breath to calm herself down (goodness, her heart was still racing) and she carefully placed her hands on her lap and folded them together. "You know I'm never going to admit that."

He shrugged, indicating that he did not believe her, and she gave up trying to deny it further. She could only guess how widely her pupils were dilated and she turned her eyes away from him. "Shall we just get dinner, then?" he asked, standing up and holding out a hand to her.

She took it, hauling herself to her feet. "Frozen dinner sounds nice," she said, glad that he had let the matter drop.

* * *

It was as if the completion of the blood bond gave them a sense of familiarity with each other. Even after their kiss, there was no awkwardness between them, the complete opposite of what she felt like after she had kissed Ron a few months ago. She and Tom had been cordial with each other before, but now it was as if their relationship had shifted into something that she could not define yet. She couldn't put a finger on it, but he seemed more relaxed with her and their conversations moved more freely. In spite of what had happened with Harry and the catastrophe with the Order, Tom's presence made her feel normal.

Saturday morning found her standing on front of the dresser in her room, looking at her reflection thoughtfully as she bit her lip. There was a knock on her door and she looked over to see Tom standing in the open door frame. She found it endearing, actually, that he always announced his presence considering that they actually still slept in the same room on different mattresses. _Old world manners are really charming,_ she thought. "Yes?"

"You're planning to meet Draco today?"

"I'm assuming he has no idea what happened with the Order and us, and since I didn't get back to him to tell him the news because I left that enchanted parchment at Hogwarts which I was supposed to use to contact him before Wednesday, I think he'll turn up," she said. "The Order has no other way of getting in touch with him except through me."

"I'll go with you," he said.

"Is that wise?" she asked. "We don't even have any Polyjuice Potions."

"We will just use glamours," he said. "I don't want to be left here, and I don't want you going there alone either. You don't know what has happened between last week and today."

"I don't plan on lingering in the Leaky Cauldron anyway," she said, running a hand through her hair to get her curls in order. "Ron and Harry know that is where I usually meet Draco and might watch for me there. I was planning on meeting Draco and taking him here, where it will be safer for us to talk."

"I'll go with you. Don't make me say it a third time," he said, and she chose not to argue any longer.

Night came and the two of them apparated to Diagon Alley, both disguised under glamours. Hermione walked to the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron and to her relief, saw Draco sitting by himself at the bar. Tom squeezed her arm discreetly, and she followed the direction of his eyes to two young men sitting at a table not far away from Draco. They were under a disguise, but when she stretched her magic she sensed that one of them had the magical signature of Harry.

"We can't approach Draco without forcing a scene," she murmured to him, leading him to an empty table.

He pulled out a chair for her before taking a seat himself. "You just have to get him to meet us outside, then we can apparate to your house," he said.

Her eyes brightened. "Of course! Can you cast an Imperius on him and have him walk out?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you suggesting I use an Unforgivable?"

She resisted the urge to kick his leg under the table if only to wipe the smirk off his face. "Yes," she said through gritted teeth.

His smirk melted into a smile as he angled himself so he had a direct line of sight to Draco. " _Imperio,_ " he whispered under his breath. He gazed at Draco for several moments before turning back to Hermione. "Draco Malfoy is now under your service. Or mine, rather."

She stood up. "Have him meet us outside."

Tom nodded, standing up as well. As soon as they were at the door, he had Draco stand up and follow them. Harry, and presumably Ron, noticed Draco's movement and tried to follow him, but as soon as Draco stepped out into the street, Hermione grabbed his arm and, with Tom, disapparated.

The three of them reappeared in her kitchen, and as soon as she and Tom had dropped their glamours, Tom released Draco from the curse. Draco looked around in bewilderment and Hermione realized that it was probably his first time in a muggle house.

"This is my old house," she told him.

"I thought as much," Draco said, still looking around trying to get his bearings. "Granger, what happened? I didn't get any word from you the entire week."

She leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed her arms. "Have you spoken with anyone from the Order?"

"No," he said.

She frowned. "Well, things went to pieces last Sunday. But it's going to be a lengthy conversation so I should offer you something to eat first. I'm starving as well." She walked to the refrigerator and opened it only to find it empty except for a few bottles of soda.

Tom was looking over her shoulder. "Why don't I run to the shop and you start filling Draco in?"

She threw him a look as she reached into her bag to give him a twenty pound note. "Here," she said. "Thanks. Can you also get some of that-"

"Flavored yogurt, yes," Tom said as he left them, and Hermione took a seat on one of the stools around the kitchen counter, and was about to start telling her tale to Draco when he jumped to his feet from where he sat, looking away from her and holding a hand to his forehead as he groaned.

"Sweet Salazar, Granger," he cried. "Don't tell me you and Riddle have been fucking?"

"No," she answered with a laugh. "Merlin, Draco, just because a boy and a girl are living in close quarters doesn't follow that they are fucking, as you so delicately put it. Whatever made you say that?"

He came back to his seat, perching on a stool to rest his elbows on the counter. "There's something different about you two," he said.

"I completed the blood bond, if that makes any difference," she answered mildly, though she suspected that it was the domesticity of their situation that had thrown Draco off. Tom Riddle looking over her shoulder and offering to go to the shop and buy her favorite yogurt for her.

He ran a hand through his hair. "I did tell you, the implications of completing the bond?"

She nodded. "I am aware. It's part of the story, really. I didn't have much choice. But first, what do you know about what happened?"

"I haven't spoken with anyone from the Order, but I do have this," he said, taking a rolled up copy of The Daily Prophet from under his coat and tossing it onto the counter between them. "Came out last Wednesday."

Hermione unrolled the paper and looked at the bottom of the front page, where a picture of her was staring back at her, looking indignant and shaking her head in frustration. "Hermione Granger, Harry Potter's Best Friend, Turned Traitor?" she read the title in disbelief.

"It gets worse," he said. "Read on."

Hermione turned her attention back to the paper and read. " _Hermione Granger, a muggleborn and one of Harry Potter's closest friends, has disappeared from the wizarding world since Sunday morning. Granger, one of the top students of her year at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has been helping Potter the past year in opposing Lord Voldemort, one of the greatest wizards of the century. However, after the Battle of Hogwarts at the start of the summer, which ended as a draw for both sides, Granger has been noted to be distancing herself from Potter and company. Last Sunday, it was revealed that she had been harboring a man named Tom Riddle, who is another incarnation of Lord Voldemort. As to the means by which this incarnation came to be, it is still unknown, but since Granger's departure from the Order both she and Riddle have not been sighted. The Ministry has been informed of this turn of events, and is urging everyone to be vigilant and to keep an eye out for Granger and her companion. It is unknown what her intentions are at the present, but to be able to conjure an incarnation of a wizard that is still living requires powerful dark magic and caution is advised. Anyone with information on Granger or Riddle is encouraged to inform the Ministry, so that efforts may be made towards their apprehension._ "

She finished reading and looked up at Draco. "What in bloody hell?" she exploded. "Only members of the Order knew what happened that morning, so one of them leaked this out!"

"I'm guessing the Order is desperate enough to find you to make it public. You have evaded them for a whole week, Granger."

"Desperate is the right word," she said, swearing under her breath. "It's Harry. He's too single-minded in his desire to defeat Voldemort he doesn't listen to other alternatives. I told them about Tom on Sunday, I told them about our plan. Kingsley was listening, but Harry couldn't get past the fact that Tom exists. He was asking me where Tom was, but I wouldn't tell him, so he used Legilimency on me to try and force it out of me."

Draco looked at her, shocked. "But Potter is not a trained Legilimens," he said in disbelief. "How did you get out of it?"

"I wasn't a trained Occlumens either, so it was like a draw between us, but he kept tearing at my mind, looking for what he wanted." She brought her hand to her temple, as if the memory itself brought back the pain. "It got too painful, and Tom stepped in, pushing them all away from me with force magic."

"And then a fight broke out," Draco guessed.

"Yes," she said. "The Order thought he was there to attack us, so they attacked him first. But then Tom fought with them and was doing fine, but Harry had managed to get him with a Sectumsemptra. I think Tom was unable to deflect it so well because it was an unfamiliar curse to him, it was invented by Snape. Anyway, Tom was hit and he was down. Harry cast the killing curse, but Tom used all of his magic to apparate us out of Hogwarts, breaking through all of the wards, and we came here. I healed him and we've just been recovering since."

"You healed him with blood magic," he deduced.

She nodded. "I didn't have anything else on hand," she said.

Tom returned with food, and Hermione was thankful that he was smart enough to cast a warming charm on the frozen dinners as he was walking home so it was perfectly heated by the time he set everything on the table. Draco took one look at the premade meal and laughed. "You've been living off frozen food?" he said.

Hermione threw a plastic fork at him. "I can't cook, so just eat that," she said.

Tom unwrapped his own dinner and sat down beside her. "Why didn't you ask me to cook?" he asked her.

She turned to him. "You know how?"

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "I grew up in an orphanage, remember? I know how to do the most basic chores. Have you brought Draco up to date on everything that's happened?"

"Yes, she has, and I've got news as well." He pushed the paper to Tom, who read through the article quickly.

"So we've got two new problems," Draco said. "First is that the Ministry is looking for you both. Second, is that the Dark Lord now knows that Tom exists, and is searching as well."

"Don't tell the Order where we are," she told him.

He scoffed. "What do you think of me, Granger? Of course I won't tell. In fact, I'm not that keen on returning to them after what they've done to you. Harry ignored you, then forced himself on you, and then sold you out to the Prophet so now everyone in the wizarding world is looking for you. My question is, what are you planning to do now? Because I'm still with you."

Hermione felt her eyes sting with the threat of tears. "You still believe in me, even if we're not friends," she said softly.

"I think friendship, at least the way you Gryffindors see it, is overrated," he said, reaching out to give her hand a squeeze then withdrawing it immediately when he saw Tom look at the gesture with a careful intensity.

She took a deep breath to calm herself. "I need a few days to think of the next course of action. Do you think you can meet us here in three days?"

"Yes. Never mind picking me up at the Leaky Cauldron," he said. "I can apparate straight here to your house. I'm not being watched closely by the Death Eaters now, Voldemort is more concerned in locating Tom."

She nodded wearily. "I'll alter the wards to let you through," she said.

They finished their dinner, and Draco left them to themselves. As they retired to bed, she read the article one more time before folding it up and throwing it to the floor. The Order had left her out of their circle, had sold her out to the Ministry. As she lay in bed that night, waiting for sleep to come, she felt her mattress sink as Tom sat down beside her. In spite of his proximity, though, in her heart she felt very much alone.

"Sleep," Tom murmured from beside her.

"I can't," she whispered, sitting up so that they were side by side.

He shifted closer until their shoulders were touching. "You're not alone," he said.

She squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that threatened her again. She didn't want to cry, not in front of him. "I only wanted to end this war without as much bloodshed as possible. I was also just looking out for Harry, knowing that though he is a powerful wizard, Voldemort is still a formidable opponent for him. But they sold me out, and now I'm a fugitive from all sides of this war. Of course I feel alone."

"You're not," he said again, and she wondered how he could speak with so much certainty.

"The only people who are talking to me are Draco, who had been my enemy since I started at Hogwarts, and you, who... I don't even know who you really are," she said.

"I'm your bond mate," he said, as if it was the simplest answer in the world. "I am the one who will always be connected to you, and vice versa. So you see, you are not alone, Hermione."

"You know, growing up with Harry and Ron, there were times when we got into rows and they wouldn't speak to me for days," she said. "Do you know what I realized during those times? Without those two, I didn't really have any friends. Now it's the same thing. They are together and here I am on the other side. It's frustrating. Since we met at Hogwarts, all I ever did was help them, and mind you, I was a really big help back then. School work, spell work, Order work... And all I asked of them was to listen to me for a while, to trust me this one last time, and they couldn't. What made it worse is that they outed me to the Ministry as some kind of traitor."

He was silent, and he heard the tears in her voice. "Do you regret getting involved with me?" he asked.

It was moments like this, when they were physically close to each other, that he was more open with his emotions, and she heard the touch on apprehension in his question. She turned around to face him so she could see his eyes in the dark. "No," she said. "If you hadn't happened, I would still be fighting the war with my friends. But I wouldn't have improved my spell casting and my dueling. I wouldn't have gained a different insight on old magic. I wouldn't be seeing magic as more than light and dark, and people more than being good or bad. Those that I thought were good or bad... Well, they sort of changed sides."

"Which side am I on?" he asked her.

"You're my bond mate," she said, finally feeling a little better as she acknowledged him. "Of course you'll always be on my side."

He nodded briefly. "You get the idea," he said. Then he closed the gap between them and gave her a lingering kiss. She made a move to protest, but he drew back just enough to put a finger to her lips. "This makes you feel better, I know. So for now, just accept it, and let it be."

She sighed as her head fell forward to touch his forehead with hers. He removed his finger, replacing it with his lips once again as they ghosted over hers. A few seconds later, she gave in, and their kiss deepened until he had her arms around her once more and her hands were in his hair, stroking his scalp. Seconds stretched into minutes, after which she shifted, pulling him down with her as she lay back down on her bed, their bodies flushed against each other. He was right, it made her feel better, and she focused on his presence, his nearness, until she remembered nothing else.


	13. Chapter 13

Note: Here is an especially long chapter for you. I didn't want to bait you all with a cliff hanger, because I hate those things myself, so I hope you enjoy this bit. Thanks for keeping up with my story.

* * *

Chapter 13

Hermione woke up the next morning alone in bed. She remembered the events of last night and she hurriedly sat up to see that Tom was on his own bed, across the room from her, still asleep. _Hm. At least he was considerate enough not to let me freak out waking up with him in bed beside me,_ she thought ruefully. She hadn't even meant to fall asleep with him last night, but who knew he could be tender enough to lull her to sleep? It was difficult for her, knowing that his tendencies leaned towards the darker side, to witness fleeting moments of a person who had the potential to be decent. It was easy to be trapped into a false sense of security if she let down her guard. Especially since she realized that she _wanted_ to believe in him.

Giving a mental sigh, she got out of bed, padded quietly to the door and made her way down to the kitchen. She started to make them a simple breakfast of French toast. She had just set the table when she felt Tom enter the room.

"Good morning," she said as set the electric kettle to boil. "I wish I hadn't emptied the house so much when my parents left it. Then we could actually eat in the dining room rather than just on the kitchen counter."

"What's stopping you from refurbishing the place?" He got two mugs from the drying rack and handed one of them to Hermione.

"I don't plan on actually living here," she said, blinking as she looked at the mug in her hand. "I've decided long ago that I'm leaving the muggle world behind. However, the way things are going in the wizarding world, it looks like I'm forced to stay here for a while."

"What job would you go for, if there was no war?" he asked.

She thought about it. "I want to work on wizarding laws, to make things better. You?"

"At first I wanted to be a teacher," he said. "But then I realized that I was always curious about pushing boundaries. I will likely go to research and development."

She bit her lip. "Do you still want to take over the wizarding world?"

He thought about it seriously. "If I could easily do it, yes. Because if I have that kind of power, I can do anything I want, and I like being in control. But you were right about one thing: the way Voldemort did it was wrong. Outright violence can only get you so far until pockets of resistance would form, and the magical community will remain weak and divided. If Voldemort were to win this war, true, he would be the undisputed leader of wizarding Britain, but what kind of community will he be a leader of? To take over the wizarding world would take time if it is to be done with subtlety, time I'm not eager to waste." He paused. "Besides, the state of the wizarding world is a mess right now, and I don't really want to be the person to clean up that mess."

She laughed at this. "Me neither," she said. "Which leads me to thinking about where I would be when everything is over."

"Well, we have to clear your name," he said.

"My name will be cleared when we bring down Voldemort," she said. "Which I have a plan for already."

"Let's hear it," he said, setting his cup down and leaning forward

"Draco said that Voldemort is bent on finding you. I have no doubt that when he discovers your location, he will send his best Death Eaters to come and collect you to bring you back to him so he can make the regeneration potion," she said. "I was thinking, I will Polyjuice myself to look like you. Draco will let slip to Voldemort that he knows where my location is, and Voldemort will send his Death Eaters to come after me, thinking that I am you. When his Death Eaters leave his side, Draco will take you to Voldemort, and you will be able to kill him."

He thought about this. "It could work," he said slowly. "The Death Eaters who will come after you will only aim to capture you, not kill you, so you shouldn't be in danger. They will bring you back to Malfoy manor, but by the time you get there, Voldemort will be gone and all that remains to be done is to dispose of the rest of the Death Eaters."

"And once they learn that Voldemort is gone, I think a lot of them will choose not to fight. When Voldemort was defeated years ago, his Death Eaters disbanded, because none of them are willing to take a risk without a leader. We only have to worry about a few hard core followers, like Bellatrix Lestrange and Fenrir Greyback. Between the two of us, and I suppose Draco as well, I think we can finish them off or at least hold them at bay until we can escape the manor. When Voldemort is gone, all we have to do is work on clearing our names. I haven't thought that far into the future yet, but it should be easier with Voldemort out of the equation."

A slow smile spread across his face. "It's a good idea. Should we start working on the Polyjuice Potion, then? It would take more than a month to brew it. Unless you have a stock left at Hogwarts, where I can get to it?"

"The ingredients for it are tightly regulated, so we might have a hard time procuring them. I do have a stock, at the Potions store room at the school. Do you think we can get them without any confrontation with the Order? You were nearly shattered when you broke through the anti-apparition wards last time."

"I was bleeding to death," he pointed out. "Getting in and out this time will not be a problem."

She raised an eyebrow at him when she noticed the slight upturn of his lips. "What makes you say that?"

"When I helped you with the wards at the castle a few weeks ago," he said. "I left a backdoor open. Or I should say, it's locked, but I have the key to open it."

Hermione sighed. "I should have known you would do something like that. Did it not occur to you that having a way to circumvent the wards compromises the castle's safety?"

He brushed off her annoyance with a small shrug of his shoulder. "That's why the door is keyed to my blood. Only I can pass through it. Hogwarts is the only home I have in this time. Of course I would make sure I would always have access to it."

She let out another breath, trying to curb the irritation that was building up inside her. She couldn't blame him, not really, when she knew she would have done the same thing. She was annoyed because he had kept it from her. "Well, no matter," she said in a clipped voice. "At least you can go get us some Polyjuice."

He nodded as he finished off his breakfast, giving her time to calm down. She finished her toast as well, and was surprised when he collected their plates and proceeded to the sink to wash them with his hands. "I thought you hated doing things the muggle way," she said, walking over to him and depositing their mugs for washing.

He looked at her sideways. "You honestly think I wasted time learning household spells? Besides, you are in a bad mood. I thought seeing me wash dishes would snap you out of it."

She chuckled at that, at the idea of Voldemort being so domestic. It was a very alien idea, and she gently shook her head and elbowed him away from the sink before her world got any weirder than it already was. "Let me do that," she said. "It's just a couple of plates." She couldn't watch him be like this and not feel hopeful that he was going to turn out into a nice person. Don't get invested in him, Draco had warned her before. She had told herself that many times the past few weeks too, but it was difficult to keep herself guarded when Tom could throw her off balance so easily with the simplest things.

He stepped aside, giving her enough room. "You shouldn't feel so bad about it anyway, Hermione. You have some of my blood. The door will work for you as well. I will show you later how to do it."

She finished up her chore and wiped her hands on a tea towel. "It's not dark magic, is it?" she asked.

"It's blood magic," he said. "Whether it's dark… well, that depends on your intent. Shall we go, then?" He offered her his hand.

Another opportunity to learn something new. And the possibility of coming and going from Hogwarts whenever she wanted to. She did not even hesitate to take his hand.

* * *

Hermione walked through the small town until she spied a tall house in the distance, looking derelict and out of place among the quaint little houses that lined the street leading up to it. She had Polyjuiced herself to look like Tom, and when she met with Draco yesterday she told him to let it slip to Voldemort that he had information that Tom Riddle was sighted in the hometown of his father.

She kept her senses alert, but so far she had only passed Muggles who looked at her curiously. Little Hangleton was a small town where people knew one another, and she was hoping that the Death Eaters would come before rumor spread among the villagers about the dark-haired, pale-faced young man and the Ministry of Magic caught wind of it. The last thing she needed was to be chased by Hit Wizards and Aurors before she was taken by the Death Eaters.

She reached the gate of the Riddle house without any incident, and she looked up at the abandoned house. It was of moderate size, not as large as Malfoy manor but larger than the Burrow, and it sat surrounded by what would have been a large flower garden had it been maintained. Now, the garden was full of weeds that covered the forlorn 'For Sale' sign at the beginning of the drive.

The perimeter of the property was lined with pine trees, and Hermione pushed open the iron gate to step through it. She walked up the drive, glancing at her watch. It had been half an hour since she had arrived at the town. Surely the Death Eaters would be coming for her soon. She would have to put up a decent fight, for it would be suspicious if she didn't. She was halfway up the long drive when she heard several faint pops behind her, telling her that a group had apparated in the vicinity.

She whirled around, drawing her wand out from her sleeve, expecting to see Death Eaters but coming face to face with Harry instead. "Harry?" she said in shock, momentarily forgetting that she was Polyjuiced as Tom.

"Riddle," Harry said, practically spitting out the name. "I knew you would come to this place sooner or later. Not many places you can hide in, is there?"

Hermione moved back several steps as other members of the Order came forward: Ron, George, Bill, Charlie, Kingsley, and Arthur. There were several more pops and Neville, Hannah, and Dean Thomas emerged from her left side. She moved to the right, determined to keep some distance between herself and them, but McGonagall, Molly and Ginny appeared at her right just as Oliver, Seamus and Fleur cut off any chance of retreat behind her.

 _Oh great, this plan is going to pieces even before it really started,_ she thought, gripping her wand.

"Harry," she said, cursing that she looked and sounded like Tom at that very moment. "I'm not Tom. I'm Hermione Polyjuiced as Tom, we're working on a plan to get to Voldemort."

"Nice try," Harry said, beginning to swing his wand.

"Look! This is my own wand!" she said, holding the wand up, but Harry must have thought she was going to attack, because he brought his wand down in a vicious slash and sent a Reducto at her.

Hermione quickly blocked the curse. "It's Hermione! Stop for a minute and let me show you..."

"Even if you are Hermione, I can't trust you anymore," Harry said, pressing on with his attack. "And you should be brought before the Ministry."

"You stupid git," she cried as she parried more attacks. "Can we just not talk?" Her mind was racing. She knew that Harry would not listen to her, not now when she looked and sounded like his nemesis that had hounded him for as long as he can remember. She thought about apparating away, abandoning the plan, but that would leave Tom to deal with Voldemort on his own without forewarning that the Death Eaters might be returning to Malfoy Manor sooner than expected.

She dove into an overgrown bush to evade a stunning spell from Kingsley, and she focused her magic, trying to disapparate to a safer location within the grounds, but Ginny threw a curse on the bush that she was using as a cover and set it aflame. Hermione rolled away, quickly extinguishing the flames on her left sleeve before they burned her skin, and she leaped to her feet. " _Stupefy_!" she aimed at Harry, but he was protected by a shielding charm from one of the Order members. Hermione ran to take cover behind a garden bench, knowing that no matter how good a duelist she had become, there was no way she could hold off fifteen opponents by herself.

" _Secumsempra_!" Harry threw the spell at her, apparently confident that the spell would hit her the way it hit Tom back at Hogwarts, but before the spell could reach her, a shielding charm materialized in front of her, protecting her from the attack.

Hermione blinked, looking up to see black smoke all over the garden as several Death Eaters apparated among the members of the Order. Immediately, the Order members turned their attention to the new arrivals that were being led by no less than Bellatrix Lestrange, who was manically laughing at the prospect of bringing Tom to Voldemort to facilitate his resurrection.

Varying curses flew in all directions, and Hermione thought fast about what she should do. She didn't want any members of the Order to get hurt, but she couldn't help them either lest the Death Eaters notice. She decided to follow the original plan and stood up to fire a curse at the nearest Death Eater, whose mask fell off to reveal the pug face of Pansy Parkinson.

" _Confringo_!" she said, pointing to Pansy, but her spell collided with another spell as it passed through a dueling pair of Death Eater and Order member.

Pansy engaged her in a duel, and Hermione successfully met her attacks with her own, but after a few seconds she felt herself suddenly immobilized as ropes materialized out of thin air to bind her arms to her side. The binding spell had come from Bellatrix, who strode over to her to take a look at her face. "Parkinson, we're not here to kill him, we're to bring him to the Dark Lord as soon as possible," she said, her voice betraying her excitement. "Go after the other Order members. I'm sure you're eager to deal with Potter and his ginger friends," she added with a laugh.

Hermione prayed that Bellatrix would apparate immediately to Malfoy manor, for she had been under the Polyjuice for more than an hour already and she could feel the effect starting to fade. Bellatrix hauled her to her feet, but then paused when she noticed that Hermione's hair was becoming longer, turning into its original light brown color, and her height receded to that of her own.

"What is this," Bellatrix hissed, gripping Hermione's arm so hard it was sure to leave bruises. "You! You have tricked us, you filthy Mudblood. Tell me where Tom Riddle is!"

Hermione looked at Bellatrix, realizing that even if she had been caught, there was already a good chance that Tom had killed Voldemort. This thought allowed her a small smile, which infuriated Bellatrix even more. Bellatrix threw her to the ground, where her cheek smashed into a rock, drawing blood.

" _Crucio_!" The mad with screamed, pointing her wand at Hermione.

Hermione was no stranger to the cruciatus curse, she had spent many minutes under the same spell many months before at Malfoy manor, and just like before she felt the indescribable pain running through her entire body. She bit back a scream, refusing to allow Bellatrix the satisfaction of hearing her agony.

Suddenly the pain stopped, and Hermione heard a ferocious succession of loud pops announcing the arrival of a third party: hit wizards from the Ministry of Magic. There were about ten of them, and they quickly took stock of the situation, realizing that Hermione was one of the people wanted by the Ministry and that there were Death Eaters on the scene as well. They joined the fray, and Hermione, temporarily forgotten by Bellatrix, started to unravel the ropes than were binding her. She had just gotten herself free, but before she could even raise her wand, it spun out of her hand.

It was Harry's expelliarmus that ended it for her, and though she was able to cast a shield wandlessly she was in no more condition to continue fighting without a wand. She sank to the ground in defeat as Bellatrix, fresh from a kill, returned to tower over her, sneering at having her on her knees. The older witch raised her wand, gesturing to the rest of the Death Eaters to cover them from the Order and the Hit Wizards. Bellatrix grabbed her by her hair, disapparating from the battle that was still raging at Riddle House.

* * *

Hermione was taken to Malfoy manor, but she was bound and gagged, so she had no opportunity to talk to Tom, who was likewise restricted as he was led into the drawing room. Pansy was gleeful as she shoved Hermione to the ground. Ignoring the pain as she scraped her knees, Hermione raised her head to see Tom being pushed towards a large cauldron where Lucius Malfoy was supporting a frail-looking form that she now recognized as Voldemort.

Tom was brought before Voldemort, and the two regarded each other coolly. Hermione was wandless, but she reached out with her magic to let Tom know she was still there. He answered her with what was equivalent to a handshake, but he maintained contact with her through their magic.

Voldemort rose to his feet and leaned against the cauldron as he looked over at Tom. "I had almost forgotten how I looked like back then," he said, his voice high and thin, hissing through the air. "You came to me at a very opportune time. I look forward to regaining a better body than what I had before."

He gestured with his hand, and Bellatrix launched herself forward, helping Voldemort step into the cauldron and assisted him into a sitting position. She then went to Tom, and looked back at Voldemort in anticipation. "Shall I harvest his body now, my lord?" she asked, her voice quivering with excitement.

Voldemort held up a hand. "Not yet, my pet. I have to kill him first to sever our bond." With a casual wave of his wand, he cast the killing curse.

Hermione gave a wordless cry as Tom fell to the ground, lifeless. Her chest tightened as she felt his magic disappear, and without the connection between them, the magic recoiled back to her and she almost choked with the immensity of it. She squeezed her eyes shut as tears pricked the back of her eyelids. When she opened her eyes again, she openly cried, for she saw that Bellatrix had severed Tom's right hand and had dropped it into the cauldron with Voldemort, and she was bleeding his mutilated body into the large cauldron.

Hermione felt someone step up beside Pansy, and she was lifted to the ground. "I'll take care of the mudblood from here, Parkinson," a voice said.

It was Draco, and he had pulled her to her feet. He had a hand at her back as if to keep her in place, but he discreetly pressed his thumb against her spine, a touch that was meant to convey a measure of comfort but only led her to cry even more. When her body was shaking too violently to allow her to stand still, Lucius looked over.

"Draco, take her to the dungeons. The Dark Lord will decide what to do with her later," he said. "She may be of some use concerning Potter and his Order."

Draco wordlessly obeyed, and he quickly took Hermione away from the scene just as Voldemort was rising from the cauldron in his new body. Hermione felt drained of her magic, and she almost sagged into Draco, who half-dragged, half-carried her to the dungeons.

There were guards stationed at the entrance, so he remained silent as he shoved her into a cell. "Wait there, mudblood," he said, though with his back to the guards, he grimaced as if it pained him to insult her so. "I'll be back for you later."

With that, he left, and Hermione was left alone in the dungeon. She worked her head back and forth sideways to get out of her gag, and once she was free of it, she let out another sob. They had failed, and Voldemort had regained his body. But what crushed her the most was the fact that Tom was gone. He had been her constant companion the past several months, at first becoming allies, then friends, then bond mates, then... She liked him, had grown fond of him, perhaps, but it was something that neither of them wanted to talk about. Nevertheless, even if they skirted around the nature of their relationship, they moved around each other so easily like two parts of a whole. Now she realized that she felt incomplete.

She laid her head against the cold stone and sent a quiet prayer for Tom's broken soul, or what was left of it. Time passed, but she couldn't measure it. All she knew was the dryness in her throat and the stiffness in her joints from crying and sitting in the same position for what must have been hours.

It was too dark for her to make out anything, even when she heard footsteps coming for her and the metal door was opened. "Granger, you're not looking very well," a smug voice said. It was Pansy.

"Hurry up, Pansy, you know the Dark Lord doesn't like to be kept waiting," a second female voice said evenly.

Hermione was hauled roughly to her feet, and when she was dragged out of her cell she recognized the other girl as Daphne Greengrass, another girl in her year at Hogwarts. She didn't say anything as she was marched up the stairs and through the manor to where she presumed Voldemort was waiting for her.

They passed by the drawing room, the only room in the manor that she remembered for the severe torture she had endured there months ago. There was a fresher memory now, of Tom being killed by Voldemort. It was empty at the moment. In fact, the whole manor seemed too quiet. Where were all the Death Eaters? Perhaps they were off celebrating after having restored their master successfully. She looked outside, noticing that it was already evening. She must have been in that cell for more than six hours.

She was led through two double-doors, and found herself in the manor's dining room. Dining hall would have been a more appropriate term, with the high chandeliered ceiling casting a yellow glow over the long table flanked by high back chairs. Hermione blinked, realizing that there were fourteen pairs of eyes looking at her as she surveyed the room. The Death Eaters were there, seated around the table, and at the head…

Hermione let her eyes wander over to the man at the head of the table. She pressed her lips together as she took in his new form. It was painful for her, seeing him, for his new body looked exactly like Tom had he grown older several years more. She judged this Voldemort's physical age to be in the late thirties or early forties, his face more mature than his seventeen-year-old counterpart but with the same expression of quiet intensity.

Voldemort gestured to Draco, who was sitting at his left. The blond stood up quickly and bent down to hear what the dark lord had to say. He then straightened up, marched down the room, and took Hermione's elbow. "I'll relieve you of this, Pans," he said. He then steered Hermione back up to the head of the table, giving her his previous seat then standing behind her. This left Hermione sitting across the table from Bellatrix, who was looking at her with undisguised hatred, nostrils flaring and teeth on edge.

Hermione, however, had no interest in Bellatrix. She fixed her gaze on Voldemort. Yes, his face was essentially Tom's. His eyes were brown, no longer red, and were looking at her just as intently as she was looking at him. After a few seconds, she heard a muted hiss from Bellatrix, and Voldemort's eyes snapped away from hers to look at his most loyal follower.

"Good evening, my Death Eaters," he finally said, and the people gathered before him murmured their greetings, signaling the start of the meeting.

"Welcome back, my lord," Bellatrix added fervently.

Voldemort allowed himself a small smile. "Yes, welcome back, indeed," he agreed, glancing briefly at Hermione before looking at the group in general again. "Though I wouldn't be too hasty with the celebrations yet, Bellatrix, until you are sure _exactly_ who you are welcoming back."

Hermione's eyes widened at his words as a confused murmur washed over the Death Eaters. She looked at Voldemort. Could it be possible? But no, she had seen him kill Tom.

Voldemort leaned forward to place his elbows on the table. "That shriveled up, beaten, shell of a man that you call master lost to me, his better half, in a battle of wills. Most powerful wizard of Britain? I think not," he said scoffed, standing up in one fluid motion and starting to pace, showing a hint of frustration. "Defeated by a mere baby during the First Wizarding War, defeated by the same child during the second. Years and years of planning, undermining, killing, and you are no closer to gaining control of the wizarding community. You have grown into a pathetic, useless lot."

He turned around suddenly, wand in hand, and sent a nonverbal killing curse to hit Fenrir Greyback squarely on the chest. Everyone sitting at the table jumped as the werewolf slumped down in his seat. He let them savor the scene before them, taking his time to walk around the table to look over the head of each of the Death Eaters, before returning to his seat.

Hermione looked at the dead werewolf. She let out a breath. She couldn't say she was sorry for him. He did, after all, kill a lot of her friends aside from biting Bill Weasley. She wondered what Tom was playing at, and she looked at him as he took his seat, smoothing down his robes.

"But I do not blame you for your failures, for I know you were following _him_ ," he said after a while in a much calmer voice. "It falls upon me now to fix things. My methods will be different, and some of you might even find them not according to your palate. So, a little test, to see if you remain worthy to be part of my circle."

He smiled now as he gestured vaguely to Hermione. "I have no doubt you are all familiar with Miss Granger. Muggleborn witch, glorified member of the Order of the Phoenix, and friend to Harry Potter. I have a blood bond with her, something I initiated months before, in anticipation of this day. Therefore, consider her an extension of myself. I want to see you pay her your respects. If you are unable to extend her this courtesy, there is the door," he added, nodding to the exit. "I know that the dark mark is a symbol of lifelong servitude, but I was not the one who marked you. I am more selective of my circle. Hence, I am giving you this once chance, the only time I will agree to release you from your vow of service."

Hermione held her breath as realization upon realization tumbled around her. _This was why Tom bonded with me in the first place. He is, indeed, taking over as Lord Voldemort. He had meant to all along… He is using me to see if his Death Eaters will tolerate his change in policies. He killed Greyback because he knew the werewolf would never go along with it!_ She looked at Bellatrix. She wondered if the witch, Voldemort's staunchest supporter, would fold.

A minute went by, and slowly, two Death Eaters stood up. Hermione knew them as Yaxley and Dolohov. They each bowed to Voldemort with a murmured 'my lord' before edging cautiously towards the door. No doubt they were expecting to be cursed, but Voldemort's wand stayed still. "Yaxley, Dolohov, a pity," he said. "You may go, but know that you will no longer have my favor, or be under my protection once you leave through that door."

The two Death Eaters continued to make a beeline for the door, finally leaving through it. Voldemort watched the door close behind them with his usual nonchalance. "I wouldn't really call it a shame," he said after a while. "As for the rest of you?"

It was Lucius Malfoy who stood up first. Hermione was not surprised. The Malfoy patriarch, having already lost his wife, would do anything to protect what little family he had left. "Miss Granger," he said somewhat stiffly, giving her a small bow. "I apologize for my previous transgressions to your person, but know that from this day forward, the Malfoy family will always be at your service."

 _Of course, he does not know that Draco and I are already friends,_ she thought. She hesitated, not knowing what to do. She hated it that Tom had used her like this, and she wanted nothing more than to get up and leave. But she knew Tom. He had layers upon layers around himself that things were never quite as simple as they seem. So instead of letting her emotions get away with her, she shoved them aside for later and gave Lucius a quick nod of acknowledgement, not saying anything else.

One by one, the remaining Death Eaters took their turn to stand up and give her a little bow. The Lestrange brothers, Augustus Rookwood, Walden MacNair, Marcus Flint. People who have pointed their wands at her before and shot curses at her. One of them, a handsome man she did not know, went so far as to walk to her end of the table to kiss her hand. Pansy Parkinson's face looked like she had swallowed poison, but she nevertheless gave Hermione a small nod. Everyone acknowledged her, except Bellatrix.

The witch was still sitting in her seat, frowning. "My lord, this is not right," she said as soon as everyone else had taken their seat.

Hermione gasped when Voldemort's wand suddenly slipped into his hand and Bellatrix fell to the floor screaming as she was subjected to the Cruciatus. Then she was whipped upwards and suspended over the table above them all as Voldemort rose to his feet. "It is not your place to say what is right or not," he said. He sighed, stopping the torture curse but keeping her up in the air. "You were the best Death Eater, Bella, and because of that I gave you a chance. But I knew, like Greyback, that you would not take it." He flicked his wand and Bellatrix was thrown against the wall. She had not even reached the floor before Voldemort's Avada Kedavra snuffed the life out of her.

Hermione was appalled. _He had just killed Bellatrix Lestrange!_ She snuck a look at the remaining Death Eaters. She found it strange that Pansy Parkinson looked more horrified than Rodolphus Lestrange. She sucked in her breath and remained rigid in her seat. She wished Tom's show would end… seeing two deaths in a span of ten minutes was getting on her nerves.

Voldemort shook his head as he put away his wand. "She used to be my best lieutenant, but I suppose obsolete things do need to be replaced. Draco," he said, tilting his head to look at the Malfoy heir, who was still standing behind Hermione's seat. "Take Bellatrix's seat."

Draco did as he was told, and Lucius Malfoy gave a start. Whether it was out of fear for his son or elation at the implication that Draco was replacing Bellatrix, Hermione had no idea. She did not have time to think on it, though, because Voldemort had begun speaking again.

"A few final points to make before I dismiss you," he said, continuing as if he had not just killed two of them. "You will continue to address me as Lord Voldemort unless I say otherwise. There will be no further attacks on the Order of the Phoenix or on Muggleborns except if it is for the purpose of self-defense. I will sort out things with the Ministry first and foremost, and none of you will be going to Azkaban. I will be restructuring our organization to better suit my purpose. Expect an owl from me sometime next week for our next meeting."

He paused, looking around the table before nodding. "That will be all for now. Leave us," he said, his eyes settling on Hermione.

The Death Eaters filed out of the room. Voldemort waved a hand at the door, and Hermione felt his wards slide into place, securing the room from anyone else. She didn't know what to do, sitting there, not when he was looking at her so personally.

"Hermione," he said. He waved his hand and a house elf appeared bearing a tray of food and leaving it at the table before disapparating with a loud pop. Tom- _Voldemort now, really,_ Hermione thought- pushed the tray towards her. "Have some supper."

She pulled the tray closer, her hands shaking slightly before she set them to rest on her lap. The aroma of the food seemed to warm her insides, but the fact that there were two dead bodies in the room with them did nothing for her appetite.

"So what had just happened?" she asked him.

He poured himself a cup of tea, pleased that she was at least not in hysterics after everything that had transpired that day. He took a sip of his tea before setting it down on the table beside him. He fixed her with a knowing smile. "Soul magic is very complex and poorly researched," he said. "If you throw in an unexpected blood bond in the middle of it all, unexpected things may happen." He held up his hand to her, showing her the scar he had made when he made the blood bond with her.

She blinked again, looking at his scar. Her mind and her heart started to race. "Tom?" she asked hesitantly.

He nodded. "And Voldemort. Tom and Voldemort have always been the same person, even though you clearly distinguished one from the other."

She shook her head. "They are different," she said. "Tom was better than Voldemort."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he looked at her earnestly. "Only because Tom had you," he said. "If the Tom you met had the same experiences as Voldemort did when he was young, Tom would have gone down the same path. They are, after all, the same soul."

"But you have Tom's memories?" she asked, unable to understand.

"I am Tom," he said.

"But you said you are also Voldemort," she said.

He sat up and seemed to sigh inwardly. He got up to sit on the chair beside her, moving closer, and she was too puzzled to move away when his arm touched hers. "Hermione," he said, and now that Hermione wasn't fearing for her life she realized that his voice, his cadence, was familiar to her. "When Voldemort took everything from me, my blood, my bones, my flesh, he thought that my soul was already gone, severed when he killed me. He didn't know that there was another thing tethering me to this world." He reached over to turn her hand palm up and lightly traced the scar on her palm. "When I was killed, my soul clung to you. Ordinarily, without a vessel, a soul should pass through the veil, but then his new body was rising, and I took the opportunity to seize control of it."

She processed this, her analytical mind refusing to allow such a simple explanation. "But that wouldn't have been possible, since his soul was already in this new body."

"It was a battle of wills," he said. "But you know how small a fragment Voldemort's soul already was, after having made seven horcruxes. As opposed to the soul inside Tom's younger body, he didn't stand a chance."

"So where is that fragment now?"

He shrugged. "I pushed it out. I suppose, without a vessel, it has passed through the veil."

"But why do you say you're Tom and Voldemort?" she pressed.

"I have his memories," he admitted. "And I plan to keep the name. You have to understand, when I realized I was successful in gaining this body completely, I had to deal with Voldemort's memories, and I had to make sure that he is completely gone. That is why it took me a long time to send for you."

The corners of his mouth turned up into a small smile, and she looked into his eyes. This close, without seeing the rest of his face and his body, she finally saw him. "Tom," she said, understanding and acceptance leaking into her voice. She bent her head, pressing her forehead against his shoulder... He was a little taller now than before.

"Tom to you, Voldemort to others," he said. "I know you have more questions, but answer one of my own first. Are you all right?"

"I am now," she said, closing her eyes as she felt him run his hands over her arms and legs, pausing at the abrasions he felt on her knees.

"Your plan didn't go according to your wishes," he said, briefly healing her abrasions before cupping her face with his hands. "But this is actually what I was hoping will happen."

"You were planning it to end up this way all along," she said. "You never meant to kill Voldemort before he had his new body. You came here planning to literally replace him."

"You make it sound like it is a bad thing," he said curiously.

She let out a breath, now feeling her frustration after being certain that he was indeed the Tom Riddle that she knew. "Do you realize what I have been through? I thought you died!" She shut her eyes as she recalled the feeling she had while waiting in her cell.

"I apologize if it caused you distress," he said, his brow furrowing. "But you would have talked me out of it had you known what I was going to do."

"You apologize for causing me distress? It was-" She broke off and waved her hand. "I have lost many friends in this war. You have no idea how bad each loss feels. And then to see you killed, bled, and mutilated right in front of me…" She shook her head, unable to keep talking.

He dropped his head a fraction. "It was a temporary circumstance, and very brief at that, in exchange for the position I am in now. Let me make amends to you."

She rubbed her hands up and down her face. Of course, he would never understand the sting of a loss of a friend or a loved one. All of a sudden, she felt so tired. "I want to go home," she said.

His face tightened. "I would rather you stay here," he said.

She scoffed at the idea. "Do you know the memories I have of this place? No, Tom. You want to make amends to me? Let me go home. Please. I want to be alone." She couldn't be with him now, not when she was so full of feelings and he had none. Grief at his seeming death, elation that he was not really dead, a sense of betrayal that he had not told her the extent of his plans, trepidation for what he was planning to do with Voldemort's power. And of course, revulsion at the fact that there were two dead bodies in front of her and she was expected to eat her supper like a normal person.

"You are still wanted by the Ministry and the Order."

"But only you and Draco know where I live," she reminded him. "I will be safe in my home. You've remade the wards there anyway, right?"

He looked at her, realizing that her mind was set. He sighed, and pulled something from inside his robe. It was her wand, and he set it on the table before her. "Let me walk you to the apparition point."

The apparition point was outside the gates of Malfoy Manor, where he turned to her before letting her go. "Hermione," he said, in a final attempt to convince her not to go.

"Good night, Tom," she said firmly, slipping her arm from his grasp and turning on the spot to disappear.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Hermione overslept the next day. Actually, she woke up early at seven in the morning like she always did, and thought that for the first time, she had no plans, no agenda, nothing to do, and she went back to sleep if only to stop thinking about recent events.

It was almost dinnertime when she got up. She padded to the kitchen, welcoming the isolation her house afforded her, for that was what she wanted at the moment. She started to fix herself dinner as her brain started to awake, reviewing everything that had happened the previous day.

 _Kingsley and the Order will think that I was wrong, helping Tom, when he reveals to the public that he had assumed Voldemort's place and is going to maintain his power,_ she thought, sitting down at the breakfast bar to eat. She remembered what she had said to Kingsley before. That if Tom Riddle would prove to be a problem, they would kill him as well. Knowing how she felt when she thought Tom had died, she knew she wouldn't be able to.

She sighed, looking morosely at her food. _What is Tom planning?_

He mentioned a restructuring of his organization. He had disposed of two of his most vicious Death Eaters while keeping the rest under his thumb. Obviously, he still had an agenda. He always did.

Suddenly, she felt a disturbance in her wards. She straightened up in her seat. She recognized the magical signature, and she greeted her guest before he even entered the kitchen. "Draco," she said, surprised to see the younger Malfoy carrying a package. "What's that?"

Draco deposited the package on the kitchen counter. "Food from the manor," he said, sitting across the bar from her. "When I woke up this morning and realized you weren't there, I thought I'd find you here and bring you something."

A ghost of a smile touched her lips. "Well, thank you, but you do know I can survive perfectly fine in the Muggle world, right?"

He shrugged, looking around her sparse kitchen. "So… how are you?" he asked after a while.

"Is this your attempt at being a sensitive friend?" she asked back, opening the package he brought her and unpacking some of the boxes inside. Hm. Home-cooked meals by the Malfoy house elves put under a stasis charm to keep them fresh.

"Seeing as you have none of those at the moment, I thought I'd give it a try," he said, raising his eyebrows.

She sighed, levitating the food into her fridge. "I actually welcome the solitude right now. I don't know what to think. I am, I think, after everything… embarrassed."

Draco's eyebrows shot up even further. "Embarrassed?"

"Ashamed," she confirmed, nodding and sighing. "I made it all possible. Without me, Tom Riddle wouldn't have caught on to Voldemort's errors. He wouldn't have met you. He wouldn't have had access to Voldemort. Or maybe he would have found a way to do all that without me. But he certainly wouldn't be able to have survived when Voldemort killed him. That one is entirely on me."

"But you did all those things because you thought it was the best way to stop the war," Draco said. "And for all you know, it might still be. We just have to wait and see."

She was dubious about this, and was bent on spending more time brooding. Therefore, Draco left her not long after, feeling that she wanted to be alone more than anything, and she once again welcomed the isolation. She wondered if she would be better off staying in the Muggle world, away from it all. She knew that it would not be easy, but it was still possible for her to re-integrate herself into the world she had chosen to leave seven years ago. She mulled the idea over and over in her head until it became more tangible. She was just at the right age to go into university, finish a course, and find a career after that. She would have to forge some papers to enroll but it was nothing a little magic couldn't do. _Magic. Will I be able to completely leave that world behind?_

It was her fifth day at home and she was reading in her sitting room when she received her second visitor. She supposed she expected it. What surprised her, though, was a rush of butterflies than suddenly appeared in her stomach when Tom Riddle passed through her wards on Friday evening.

 _Voldemort_ , she reminded herself, watching him as appeared at the doorway of her sitting room. _He wants to be remembered as Voldemort now, not Tom._

"Tom," she said, the name falling from her lips before she could correct herself. He was there, before her, and if she deluded herself into thinking that she was better off being alone in the muggle world, the quiver of pleasure that ran through her upon seeing him and calling his name told her otherwise. "Voldemort," she said after a while, not knowing what else to say.

He shrugged as if it didn't matter to him, looking around her sitting room. She had a book and a cup of tea on a table beside an armchair, and he glanced at the title. "Tom is fine between the two of us," he said, easing himself onto her settee.

There was a minute of silence between them until he nodded at the book on her table. "Been reading about muggle universities, Hermione?"

It was her turn to shrug. It was painful, after all they had been through, that they were back to being stiff and formal with each other. "I've been considering my options."

His countenance broke for a second, disgust coloring his features before he smoothed them over once again. "Certainly not the muggle world," he said, shaking his head. "Why waste your talent here when you already know that you are a formidable witch?"

"Because of you," she said forcefully. "You used me, Tom, and I am ashamed that you did. Ashamed that I let you do it. I should have known better."

"Why do you assume the worst?" he shot back, his tone matching hers.

"Because I have seen Voldemort, I knew him, and he _was_ the worst thing that ever happened to the wizarding world! And now you've stepped into his shoes!"

"So I can take it in a different direction," he said, clenching his hands on his lap before leaping to his feet to begin pacing back and forth along the length of the room. "We discussed it before, hadn't we, Hermione? I told you if I could seize power easily I would do it. Control of the Ministry, not by violence but by subtlety and cunning. Preserving the wizarding world as the treasure that it is, yes, including the muggleborns!"

He stopped pacing all of a sudden and brought up a hand to massage the bridge of his nose. "I did not come here to argue with you," he murmured, consciously toning down his voice.

She sighed, all the fight going out of her as he backed down. "I feel betrayed," she said. "Used."

He sat down on the chair nearest her so they were less than a meter apart. "I did use you," he admitted, holding her gaze. "How could I not, when you presented the perfect opportunity? But that does not mean that I did not want to save your life when I initiated the blood bond. It doesn't mean that I didn't listen to your arguments about the worth of muggleborns, about your ideas about magic and the wizarding world. It doesn't mean that I don't hold you in high regard, because Hermione, I really do."

She cursed him silently, that he could still be so captivating even after openly admitting that he had used her. "Why are you here, Tom? Really?"

"To ask you to come back with me."

She smiled faintly. "You're not through exploiting me?"

He matched her smile. "You realize it goes both ways?"

She chuckled as she felt them slowly settle into their previous level of ease with each other. "I hardly think you would ever let me exploit you."

He raised a perfect eyebrow at her. "I believe you already did. And I do not oppose should you feel the need to do so again."

She felt her cheeks burn as she remembered using him as a comfort pillow. He smirked, and it was proof that _her_ Tom Riddle was back when he allowed her to hit him on the arm. "Oh," she said, bringing up her hand to touch his arm once more. "You've grown some bulk."

"As well as a few lines on my face," he said easily.

She shook her head. "No, this face suits you," she said. "It shows confidence and power and wisdom. The exact sentiments I know you want to project."

"I have talked with the Minister," he told her.

"Umbridge," she said with derision.

"You have been exonerated from all charges of treachery and harboring a fugitive, given that I am no longer one," he said.

"How ever did you manage that? Umbridge hates me," she said.

"After Voldemort's brief takeover of the Ministry two summers ago, the Ministry was left in tatters. Umbridge's control over everything is fragile. As it is, the Ministry cannot defeat me should I decide that I want to continue this war," he said. "I made a deal with Umbridge, a settlement, saying I will no longer be an aggressor in exchange for complete amnesty of myself and my Death Eaters."

"And she just agreed? Just like that?" Hermione asked skeptically.

"It took me three dinner dates with her to work everything out," he said with a hint of annoyance. "But in the end, Dolores Umbridge is vain. She wants to be remembered as the Minister who brought back the wizarding world from the brink of destructive war. She wants to be seen shaking the hand of the rather handsome dark lord in the name of peace and prosperity. She wants to be photographed by the Daily Prophet putting Yaxley and Dolohov into Azkaban, and putting out the announcement that Fenrir Greyback and Bellatrix Lestrange are dead."

"So the war is really over?" she asked, not believing it.

"It is on my end," he said. "I already have some of my Death Eaters in key positions at the Ministry. Give it a few years and Umbridge will be on her way out and I will have control of everything."

"And what will you do then? When you have control of everything?" she asked.

"Whatever I want," he said.

"I said it before, you're a hardliner. I don't know if it's a good idea for you to have control of everything," she said.

"Which is why I am asking you to come back with me," he said.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You are going to use me as your conscience?"

"Just as you can use me to further your own agenda," he pointed out. "You do have some influence over me, Hermione. Think about what you can do for muggleborns, for magical creatures, for _elves…_ "

He leaned forward to bring his face even closer to hers. "I told you," he said. "Tom and Voldemort are of the same soul, with the same potential. The only reason why you see Tom as better than Voldemort is because Tom had you. And I do want you with me. These last five days have been… somewhat bereft of something."

She took a deep breath. He was right. She had been feeling hollow since arriving home, which she attributed to his betrayal of her. But now that he was here, the moment she felt him slip through her wards, she felt so much more alive, so much more herself. It shouldn't be so. He was manipulative, an opportunist, and he was a dark wizard. But he was also brilliant and charming and so magically powerful and it was just so _easy_ for her to be with him. She wanted to be with him, and she was tired of finding reasons not to.

Slowly but deliberately, she nodded, and his face broke into a relaxed smile. She felt the corners of her mouth tug up in a smile. "I do just need one thing more, to make me feel better," she said softly.

Tom knew what she meant right away. Leaning over, he brushed his lips against hers, and she sighed at the warm rush it had always elicited in her. His lips lingered over hers as she kissed him back. She was just thinking about how much she had missed him when he pulled her onto his lap so he could wrap his arms around her. Their kiss deepened as her mouth yielded to his, their tongues once again engaging each other so familiarly. Her mind was just racing into the realm of the naughty when he pulled back slightly.

"I don't think this is a good idea," he said, slightly out of breath as his hands stilled just above her ass.

She blinked. Wasn't that supposed to be her line?

"Not that I don't like it," he said quickly, pressing a finger to her lips. "But I should tell you. I'm going to be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher come September at Hogwarts."

* * *

It was mid-August, and Diagon Alley was full of wizards and witches with their children taking advantage of the last few days of summer before school started. Hermione had gotten her letter from Hogwarts, allowing her to come back to finish her seventh year, and she wasn't the only one. The others in Voldemort's circle got theirs as well, and now she had gone to Diagon Alley to buy her school things with Draco, Daphne, and Theodore. It was weird doing her shopping with them, for in the previous years she had always gone with Harry and the Weasleys, and she never would have thought that she would be doing the same thing with a group of Slytherins.

She was pleasantly surprised that the two boys were gentlemanly enough to carry some of her and Daphne's purchases. With their hands laden with shopping bags, they stopped by Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream for a breather before continuing on to the apothecary.

They sat down together once they had gotten their ice cream, and idly watched the people passing by. Theodore was the first to speak. "Do you reckon a lot from our year will be coming back?" he asked.

"Pansy isn't," Daphne said. She shrugged as she poked a spoon into her sundae. "Pansy took the dark lord's offer to leave his service. He let her go, since she wasn't even marked yet. I believe she left the country with her mother."

Hermione tried to keep her face neutral, but Draco saw the slightest curl of her lips. He laughed. "I think Pansy just doesn't want to come back to Hogwarts because Granger's got Head Girl."

Theo looked at her. "You got Head Girl?"

Hermione kicked Draco's leg under the table. "Yes. I was very surprised, considering that McGonagall is headmistress."

"What's to be surprised about? You're top of our year in school, and the staff would be accused of being unfair to deny you that just because you were involved with the Order," Draco said.

"But you got Head Boy," Hermione said. "Did they just skate over all that stuff that happened in our sixth year?"

"No, my dad had something to do about that," Draco said, smiling smugly.

Hermione rolled her eyes as Theo and Daphne laughed. Draco may have stopped being a prejudiced prat, but he was still very much a Malfoy. "I'm not surprised," she muttered.

"My dad pushed for you to be named Head Girl as well. He thinks it would be better for both of us since the Heads have their own quarters. You wouldn't want to be stuck in Gryffindor Tower with Potter and Weasel, do you?"

"I don't think they'll be coming back," she said. "They said they wouldn't until this war is over."

"The war is practically over," Daphne said. "The Dark Lord is not pushing for any further attacks towards muggles and muggleborns. He's still pushing for a muggleborn registry but I think it's only a good idea to keep track of muggleborns. Pardon me, Hermione, I know you're one of them, but history has shown us that those times magic was found out by muggles were because some muggleborn made a slip. Sorry, Hermione."

Hermione nodded. "It's all right, Daphne, I can't argue with historical fact. I suppose being monitored under a registry is better than being executed or banned from the wizarding world."

"It's a compromise," Draco said, winking at her. "I'm sure the hardcore purebloods aren't welcoming the softened stance against muggleborns, but since the Dark Lord supports it, there's nothing they can do. Besides, if you do the pure numbers of our current population, shutting out the muggleborns will lead to a population collapse in less than a century."

"Well, Granger, I can say to you that at least one Weasley will be returning to Hogwarts," Theo said, nodding towards the street.

It was Ginny Weasley, and she was flanked by both Harry and Ron, who were carrying her schoolbooks for her. Hermione was filled with a mixture of dread and nostalgia at seeing them. Given everything that has happened and her assimilation into the regular life at Malfoy manor, she had not thought much more about her old friends, but seeing them today hit her like a ton of bricks.

"I've got to get out of here," she muttered when she realized that the three of them were walking towards the ice cream parlor.

Draco clamped a hand on top of her knee to keep her from standing. "You have as much a right to be here as any of us now. You're not wanted by the Ministry anymore, and you do need to get your shopping done."

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek as Ron, Harry and Ginny entered the shop. There was a fraction of a second where she thought they might not even notice her, but Harry's eyes swept over the crowd and settled on her. Harry's expression changed to one of aversion as he elbowed Ron and pointed her out.

Hermione held her breath as Harry and Ron walked towards them, leaving Ginny to order their ice creams for them. She noticed that Theo had a hand on his wand, and that Daphne was sitting rigidly, gripping her spoon.

"Mione," Harry said tightly when he was close enough. "Can we talk?"

"Sure," she said, pushing Draco's hand off her knee.

"Granger," Draco protested.

"I'll just be at that table over there," Hermione assured him, pointing to an empty table at the other end of the parlor.

She walked away, followed by Harry and Ron, and as soon as she sat down with them, she looked at them expectantly. "Well?" she asked.

Harry gestured to the table of Slytherins. "What are you doing here with them?"

"Shopping for stuff. I'm going back to Hogwarts. I presume you two aren't?" she said.

"I told you, not until the war is done," Harry said evenly. "I don't know what to do about that though, you having changed sides and all."

"There are no more sides, Harry. The war is coming to an end," she said.

"Not while that man you defended from us is still alive," Harry said sternly. "How could you, Hermione? He killed my parents. He killed hundreds more. And now he's regaining his influence over the Ministry, you're still defending him?"

"You know as well as I do that it wasn't as simple as that," she said. "I only asked for you to listen to me. If you had, then things might have turned out differently. Yes, I took a risk with Tom Riddle, but I did that because I did not want you to be the one to face Voldemort. I didn't want any more members of the Order to die. Haven't we all lost enough?"

"Hermione, he didn't even get sent to Azkaban!" Harry hissed.

"And do you know why not?" she hissed back. "Because he knew he had to deviate from his old methods to escape that fate. Look around you, Harry. Do you think you can walk down Diagon Alley in broad daylight with Ron and Ginny if he wasn't serious about ending all this aggression? Do you think I would have walked out of Malfoy Manor alive after being captured by Bellatrix if he had no plans to follow through with the acceptance of muggleborns?"

Harry was not convinced. "He is planning something, Hermione. You know how he is."

"No, Harry. I am not egotistic enough to pretend that I completely know him. He is altogether a very complex person, but I find that being in dialogue with him is better than painting him as a target to eliminate because believe me or not, Harry, he still outmatches you. As for more sinister plans for the Ministry… I don't know. Why do you think I stay with him?"

"You aren't egotistic enough to know him yet you think you have some sort of influence on him?" Harry scoffed.

"He listens," she said tiredly, rubbing her arms. "He may not always agree, but like I said, dialogue is better than anything else at this point. So far, it seems to be the best option."

"Wait a minute, Hermione. You mean you are staying with him?" Ron blurted out.

She resisted rolling her eyes. "At Malfoy Manor," she said resignedly. "Seeing as I have no other home in the wizarding world and my parents are away, Draco has extended an invitation to me." It was probably better for them to think it was Draco rather than Tom.

"You're going back to Hogwarts," Harry said.

"I'm trying to get my life back on track," she said. "As should you and everyone else. Harry, maybe you should just forget about that prophecy, the one about you and Voldemort. It's brought us nothing but grief since we learned about it. I have always believed that a man's destiny could only be dictated by his own choices."

Harry was staring off into the distance, his eyes hard as he considered her words. "He started it all, when he killed my parents."

"And he may well end it too, if he kills you," she warned him. She leaned forward. "I know it's too much, but try to let it go. Before you lose more."

She stood up just as Ginny arrived at their table. "See you at Hogwarts, Ginny," she said. "Harry, Ron." She nodded to them before going back to Draco's table, where she gazed at her melted sundae. She should have cast a stasis charm. What a waste.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

September first came upon them suddenly. Hermione found herself standing on the platform at King's Cross with her newfound friends from Slytherin, feeling odd as some of the other students passing by her gave her curious looks. She saw Ginny with Arthur and Molly at the other end of the platform. Ginny had turned away from her as soon as they saw each other, Molly had thrown her a contemptuous look, and Arthur merely looked her way tiredly before giving Ginny a kiss as she boarded the train.

Theo and Draco came up to her, having loaded their trunk and hers into one of the compartments. "Granger, we're riding in the Heads compartment together with the prefects," Draco said, the gold Head Boy badge gleaming on his chest.

"You guys go ahead. I'm going to wait for Daphne and Blaise," Theo said. "See you at school."

Hermione and Draco made their was to the Heads compartment. They were joined by other students from the different houses who were made prefects. Most of them were sixth years she didn't know, but she was surprised to find Ginny and an unknown seventh year Ravenlcaw with them.

Draco, being the Head Boy, took the initiative. "All right. I called this meeting for the sole purpose of meeting one another. You all know that things at Hogwarts are going to be quite different this year, namely there would be more students coming back to complete their final year. It is for this reason, I think, that Professor McGonagall created two new positions." He nodded towards Ginny and the seventh year Ravenclaw.

The Ravenclaw spoke up. "I am Scott McGreer, I've been assigned Deputy Head Boy."

Ginny nodded stiffly. "Ginny Weasley, Deputy Head Girl."

The prefects introduced themselves one by one, and after the introductions, they all fell silent, staring at one another. Hermione cleared her throat after a few minutes. "Why don't we just address the elephant in the room?" she said, then looked at their confused faces.

"Is that a muggle phrase, Granger?" Draco asked.

She rolled her eyes. "I forget I'm with you. Yes, it is. It just means addressing the most important question that no one is asking." She pointed to herself, and to Draco, before turning to the others. "You are probably wondering how Draco and I ended up being more than civil to each other, and how I could even return to Hogwarts after all you've read about me in the Prophet. I thought I should just clear the air so we can all hope to work well with one another."

Ginny stared out the window, a stony expression on her face, but the others looked at her expectantly. Hermione took a deep breath. "You all know I was with Harry in the Order of the Phoenix, but this summer we had a disagreement on tactics, and I got disowned by the Order. Draco kindly allowed me to stay at his home."

"What about that news that you were with You-Know-Who's reincarnation?" Scott asked.

"That was true, but the person I was with was different from the Voldemort that attacked Hogwarts. It was a different incarnation. I'm not even going to try and explain how that came to be, but I was never a traitor to the Order, or to Harry." She looked at Ginny as she said this. "All I wanted was to find a way to end the war with as little bloodshed as possible. I think we've all had enough of it."

The Revenclaw prefect, Chelsea Cromwell, pursed her lips. "I suppose everybody wants that. But where is this Tom Riddle that the Prophet wrote about now?"

Hermione met Draco's eyes. "He killed Lord Voldemort and assumed his place and his name. This is why there is a change in his policies as you might have noticed."

Ginny's head snapped back to Hermione. "I can't believe I'm hearing you call him by his title," she said. "Have you forgotten what Bellatrix has done to you?"

"No, and it doesn't matter anymore, she is dead," Hermione said. "Anyway, I just wanted to clear the air. There are a lot of uncertainties about our community right now, power is shifting, and we don't even know what the long term effects will be. However, we are just students, and while we are at Hogwarts, we have no business meddling in the politics of our community. We have a different role at the moment. We can focus on our job and do it well, so that at least life in Hogwarts will be pleasant for us and all the other students. I think, given the events of the past year, we all deserve a return to normalcy."

"You're calling for a truce," Ginny said slowly.

"Between us, at least," Hermione said. "Let us be just students again, during our last year at Hogwarts."

"You're asking a lot, Hermione," Ginny said.

"I think the two of you are due for a private conversation," Draco said. "The rest of us will just scram and we'll be back in an hour."

It was a testament of the Malfoy influence that the rest of the compartment cleared out with a look from him. Hermione was left alone with Ginny, and for a while, none of them spoke. The trolley witch came and handed them a couple of cauldron cakes and two cups of tea, saying it had been sent by Draco.

Hermione took a bite out of the cauldron cake as Ginny watched. "It's unnerving, seeing Malfoy looking out for you," the redhead finally said.

"He's paying me back for the time I took care of him when he was acting as the Order's spy," she said. "I'm grateful to him, he's been a friend when... But I don't want to blame others anymore. You weren't in my position that time, Ginny. I met Tom Riddle and he was different from Lord Voldemort. Harry wanted to kill him, and I couldn't let it happen."

"So it was only right for you to defend him when the Order was trying to apprehend him that day at Hogwarts? Hermione, you raised your wands against your friends," Ginny said.

"Harry used Legilimency on me without my permission," Hermione said. "Tom came in to protect me, not to fight the Order, but things got out of hand. If you remember that day, Tom wasn't the one who cast the killing curse. He was using hexes that were too tame for him, because it wasn't his goal to kill the Order."

"Why did you have to take his side, Hermione?" Ginny asked almost sadly.

"Because I honestly thought it was the best option available," she said. "And I didn't really take his side. I followed my own decisions. In fact, I was the one who devised the plan to use him to kill Voldemort, I was the one who planned how Draco would conduct his espionage. Tom and Draco just sort of followed my lead, but things never went right."

"You said Voldemort killed him."

"He did, but Tom's soul... it was assimilated into Voldemort's new body, so Tom just slipped into Voldemort's shoes," Hermione said. "Which is why there has been a change in Voldemort's policies. He's able to maintain control over his Death Eaters, but at the same time, he has stopped attacking anyone unnecessarily. Which, I now think, is important for you and I to talk about. Harry has been bent on taking Voldemort down for a long time that he might not notice that Tom has stopped his attacks. If the Order attacks the Death Eaters, the Order will just be painted as the villains in the community. Also, Tom may have appeared to have softened, but he does not take attacks on his person lightly. He will retaliate if he feels the need to," she warned Ginny.

Ginny looked out the window again, but her expression was no longer hard. She looked tired. Her boyfriend had been on the warpath for the past several years and she wanted nothing more than to simply settle down. "Do you think that Voldemort will leave Harry alone if Harry leaves him alone?"

"If Harry leaves him alone? Yes. Tom is not obsessed with Harry. He never was. He wants the Ministry."

Ginny looked at her. "And you think that's okay?"

"I don't know," she said honestly. "I guess I'll have to see how it goes. That is why I chose to stay with him. Maybe I can exert enough influence to make sure things don't go as bad as they used to be."

"That's very presumptive of you isn't it, thinking you can do something about it?" Ginny asked thoughtfully.

Hermione shrugged. "I find that he listens to me. I don't presume anything."

Ginny shuddered. "I don't know how you do it, though, having known all the things that he did."

"He talked with me a lot before he became Voldemort," she admitted. "I sort of understood where he was coming from. Of course, it wasn't enough to make excuses for all the horrors Voldemort did, but now that he has changed, I find that I just want to move forward and leave all the horrors behind. As long as Tom does not cross the line and endanger others for his own gain, I'm fine with that."

"I never thought I'd hear you say something like that," Ginny said, staring at her tea.

"I have changed, too," Hermione said. "I just… I just want to stop fighting."

"What is it like, living in Malfoy Manor? I couldn't help but notice how chummy you were with the Slytherins at Diagon Alley a fortnight ago."

"The Death Eaters tolerate me, because they know Tom favors me," she said. "He keeps me safe, Ginny, and he even gave me money to fix my old house. So you see, I can't really speak ill of him. Not after he's saved my life. But I do miss my old friends."

"I don't think Harry will be friends with you as long as you are with him," Ginny said. "Harry has a good heart, we both know that, but when it comes to Voldemort, he goes all out."

"But the war is ending," Hermione said. "Otherwise, you or I could not have gone walking in Diagon Alley in broad daylight. We wouldn't be going back to school. The Order must realize that. Tom has stopped attacking, but if Harry attacks him, he will fight to kill, Ginny. Tom remembers favors and slights and rewards them accordingly."

"What do you want me to do, Hermione? Harry won't listen to me," Ginny said.

"You can temper him," Hermione said. "If Tom listened to me when I asked him not to kill the Order back at Hogwarts, then Harry should be able to listen to you, too."

Ginny looked doubtful, but she didn't answer because Draco and the rest of the prefects have returned. Draco tossed Hermione's school robes at her as he looked at Ginny's untouched cauldron cake. "I didn't poison that cake, Weaslette," he said.

Ginny flushed, but she reached out to take the cake anyway. "I wasn't thinking that, Malfoy," she said.

Hermione slipped her robe over her shoulders, patting down the creases. She adjusted her Head Girl badge on her chest. "We should be getting to Hogwarts soon. Thanks for the cake, Draco, but I'm really looking forward to the feast. I have to admit, I really missed the Hogwarts kitchens."

"Well, you'll be spending a year eating nothing but," Draco said easily, sitting down beside her. "So you and Weaslette have settled on your truce?"

"Yes. And it starts with you stopping from calling her Weaslette and using her proper name instead," she told him. "Presuming you know what it is."

"Ginny," he responded, smiling broadly as Ginny bit into the cauldron cake. "But only if she will start using mine."

* * *

"Welcome, everyone, to another year at Hogwarts," Minerva McGonagall said as she stood on the dais, looking out over the sea of faces. "It heartens me to see that many of you have chosen to return. As I am sure you are all eager for the feast, I shall keep my welcoming remarks to a minimum before we proceed.

"We have worked hard over the summer to restore the school to its former glory, but it's not only the castle itself that we needed to do some effort on, but the staff itself. It is my... pleasure to introduce to you two new members of our teaching staff. Please welcome our new Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Professor Rabastan Lestrange."

Hermione wasn't surprised as she sat beside Ginny. Tom had told her that aside from him, the Death Eater had also been asked to come and teach. There was a stunned silence, and she sighed inwardly and clapped her hands politely, leading the rest of the hall in its welcoming applause. Sitting beside Rabastan, looking as if he completely belonged there, was Tom Riddle. He caught her staring and he sent her a smug smile.

"I would also like to introduce your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," McGonagall continued in a more strained voice. "I have been hard pressed to find anyone to take the job, but the board of governors have put forward Professor Tom Riddle, and he has been most gracious to take up the offer."

There was a soft murmur among the students, the older ones knowing that Tom Riddle was also Lord Voldemort. "I guess that takes care of the jinx, then," she said to Ginny. "When he was refused the spot years ago, he cursed the position, so that none other will remain for more than a year until he takes it himself. It's the only reason he came back."

Ginny was frozen, her eyes locked on Tom Riddle, who was now nodding at the scattered applause that welcomed him. "Hermione, he looks different."

"He does," she said, noticing that many of the girls were also eyeing him appreciatively. She bit her lip. _What's got your knickers in a twist, Hermione? He's your bloody teacher now for Merlin's sake!_

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "I'd also like to remind the first years, and everyone else, that the Forbidden Forest is off limits to all students, and those who dare venture there will be punished accordingly. Lastly, I will meet with the heads after the feast. All that being said, I wish everyone a happy arrival at Hogwarts, and enjoy the feast."

She clapped her hands together and the table was filled with food. Hermione reached for the shepherd's pie before it disappeared in front of her.

"So he'll be teaching DADA," Ginny murmured.

"To tell you the truth, I can't think of anyone else who would be more qualified," Hermione said in a low voice. "He has an interesting take on the subject."

"I don't doubt that," Ginny said dryly.

The feast was done in an hour, and the prefects led the other students into their respective House dormitories. Hermione stayed behind with Draco and the Deputy Heads and McGonagall came to them, several pieces of parchment in her hands. The rest of the staff filed out of the Great Hall, with Tom giving Hermione a curt nod as he passed by.

"This will be an unusual year," McGonagall began, looking harassed and not bothering with any pleasantries. "But Hogwarts has always strived to remain independent of the politics of the wizarding world and we are severely dedicated to the education of young wizards and witches, which is why the staff and I are united in moving forward and leaving the war outside of our walls.

"I have assigned Deputy Heads for this year, for we have many things to work on and we will need everyone's cooperation."

"The heads and the prefects have smoothed things over in the train," Draco said.

McGonagall was surprised to see the deputy heads nodding their agreement. "Well. Well, that is good," she said. "As you know, the Heads have separate dormitories from the rest of the school, and for this year we have made adjustments so that there are two of you in each room. It's quite a spacious area so you will not feel cramped, and you will have enough space between yourselves."

She handed them each a piece of parchment. "We have several activities this year, all of them aimed to foster unity between the houses. As usual, there will be a Halloween Feast at the end of October, and there will be a Yule Ball on the second week of December, before school closes for the Christmas holidays. Quidditch will push through this season, as well as several extracurricular clubs that some of the professors are willing to conduct such as the school choir, the dueling club, the book club, and so on. As heads, you will spearhead the preparation for the Halloween Feast and the Yule Ball. Now, I'll lead you to your dormitory."

She led them through the maze of hallways, stopping in front of a portrait of an old Scottish castle. "The password is 'lime sorbet', you may change it yourselves afterward but as Headmistress I should always be aware what you change it to. Now off you pop, the lot of you. Have a good night."

The four of them slipped through the portrait, and gave a collective gasp when they saw their common room. It was large, but filled with comfortable furniture that made the space seem just right for the four of them. There was a long couch flanked by two armchairs in front of a large fireplace. On the other side was a long hardwood table that seated up to six persons with lamps on each end, supposedly a study area for them. There were two tall bookshelves waiting to be filled with their personal books, and towards the back was a small kitchen and dining area, with the cupboards filled with snacks and tea and coffee.

"Oh, this is rich," Scott said. "I'm going to check out the room."

Hermione and Ginny likewise went to their room, whose door was at the other side of the boys' room. The bedroom was done in Gryffindor colors, both of them being from the same House. There were two four-poster beds on either side of the room, and one vanity table and closet for each of them. There was a bathroom reserved for them as well, complete with a separate shower and bath.

"I'm glad we don't have to share bathrooms with the boys," Ginny said, sounding almost happy. "Hermione, this place looks fabulous!"

Hearing Ginny's excited voice made her smile. It was almost as if they were back to being friends. She sat down on her bed, testing the mattress. "It does," she agreed. "You all right with me taking this bed, Gin?"

She nodded as she turned around to face her. "Look, I understand what you said on the train, Hermione. I don't know what's going to happen in the future, but you're right. Let's just try and make the most out of our final year at Hogwarts, shall we?"

Hermione met her smile. "Absolutely."

* * *

Since there was only a handful of eighth years that returned, their classes were joint with the regular seventh years. Hermione was curious as she walked to her Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson with Ginny and Neville. It was their last class of the day, but one that everyone was anticipating. Seamus and Dean were also there, and they were both talking excitedly.

"Imagine, the darkest wizard this century, teaching us DADA!" Seamus said. "I don't know whether I should be scared or excited."

"You certainly sound excited enough," Ginny called out, rolling her eyes at them as they filed into the classroom.

They were one of the last to arrive, and Hermione found that everyone who had arrived before them had chosen the cautious route and taken seats as far back as possible, leaving the front row the only vacant ones. Hermione sighed as she slid into the seat beside Ginny. Tom was already waiting for the class, standing coolly beside his table, his arms crossed in front of him in a relaxed manner.

"Good afternoon," Tom began, sweeping around his table to stand in front of it, leaning against it slightly. "I have no doubt that I do not need to introduce myself further, and you should know by now that there is no one more qualified to teach you about the dark arts than me."

Hermione couldn't help it, her hand shot up almost immediately after he paused for breath.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" he asked, quirking his eyebrow at her.

"I thought this was supposed to be Defense Against the Dark Arts," she said. "You said you were going to teach us about the dark arts?"

"Yes, this class is about Defense Against the Dark Arts," he agreed, meeting her eyes with a glint of amusement in his. "But how can you defend against something that you do not understand? Sometimes, the best way to disarm your enemy is to learn them. If you always think your enemy is a subhuman psychopath that is going to attack you no matter what you do, then your battle will never end. But if you see your enemy as something that you can learn, then it gives you something to work with."

"Seeing as this class has been focused on the _defense_ against the dark arts, none of you have been educated about its origins, it development through history, and the reasons why the modern community deems them taboo." He paused to take a breath as he glanced out the window to collect his thoughts. "Obviously, I was not planning on talking about the dark arts as extensively as I am now, but you do realize that you need to understand something in order to have a chance at fighting it.

"A little bit of history, then, since I doubt if you actually listen in History of Magic. The dark arts were first practiced during a time when magic was unregulated," he said. "It is very old magic practiced by our ancestors before there was any wizard's council or ministry to supervise the magical community. It was a time when every witch or wizard was for himself. Many of them turned to the dark arts because of the power behind it, but not everyone can handle immense power, so some wizards and witches were consumed by it. A handful of wizards and witches came together to try and get things back into order… they formed the first wizarding council, which would be the forerunner of the current ministry. They banned dark magic, and regulated information regarding it, which is why you now have books in the Restricted Section.

"It is not my place to voice out my opinion on their actions, lest your headmistress accuse me of sedition or subversion, but as your teacher, it is concerning to think how am I going to teach you to fight something that you do not understand? It is like asking you to solve an arithmancy problem when you don't even know what numbers are," he said. "Therefore, in my class, you will have a basic understanding of what is considered dark magic. This will, of course, be theoretical, and will focus on the recognition of dark magic and deriving the best way to counteract it."

"The first part of the term we will deal with the theoretical side of the dark arts, and why they are classified as such. This will allow you to understand the spellwork behind the common dark curses. This will require a lot of book work from you, but once you have understood the spell diagrams of a premeditated list of dark curses made by me, we will proceed to practical exercises on undermining those curses. I will help you develop your techniques in spell casting and in defending.

"One day a week will be devoted to the study of a dark creature, to ensure that your knowledge of the dark arts is comprehensive by the time you finish at Hogwarts, and I will be looking forward to welcoming you as graduates who actually know what they are supposed to know."

He finished his speech, and turned to the blackboard, waving his wand at it. Writing appeared on the board, listing three dark curses in his neat script. "For your first assignment this week, I want you to read about these dark curses and to study their spell diagrams. When you return to my class I at least hope to expect some progress, if you haven't finished it by then. Should you need books from the Restricted Section, you may approach me and I will give you a permission slip."

He finished the rest of the period by telling them how he wanted his spell diagrams done, and Hermione was amazed that magic could also be so technical. As the period ended and the class gathered their books, Tom called their attention again.

"I will be handling the dueling club which is to start in a fortnight. As it is a very hands on activity, I am forced to limit the slots to only thirty individuals, and the club is only open from the fifth years and above. I have to warn you, though, that I will not have the patience to coddle you should you prove to be inadequate in the art of dueling, so consider carefully before you sign. I will leave the signup sheet on the board outside of this classroom." He looked at Hermione, and she hurriedly turned to Ginny, saying she will catch up later.

She stayed behind as the rest of the class filed out. She made her way to his desk, where he was looking at his timetable. When the last student had left the room, he suddenly waved his hand, shutting the door, and his wards slid into place. He smiled at her as she put her hands on her hips. "First day of school and you are willing to give students a pass to the Restricted Section?" she asked, amused.

"I doubt any one of them will be approaching me within the first month anyway," he said, still smiling. "What do you think of my first lesson?"

"I think you took them by surprise," she said. "Barty Crouch disguised as Alastor Moody was a lot more shocking than you."

"It must have been the spinning eye," he said, chuckling.

Hermione shared in his mirth. "Probably. But he started right away with the Unforgivables."

"I think a lot of these students have seen enough of the Unforgivables the past year," he said. "I want to ask you to join me in the dueling club. Not among the thirty slots, but as a teaching assistant. When I do my demostrations."

"Duel with you? In front of the class? Sounds interesting," she said. "Do I get to disarm you?"

His eyes were steely when he returned her look. "You can most certainly try."

"You should know, _Professor_ , that I am considered the brightest witch of my age," she warned him.

"Is this the part where I finally meet the insufferable know-it-all you told me about last summer?"

"Ha," she said, thinking about hitting him on the arm like she usually did but staying her hand when she reminded herself that he was her teacher now. "Well, yes, I think it's finally time you meet her. Good day, Professor," she said, tipping her head slightly before making her way to the door.

"Ten N.E.W.T.S., Miss Granger. That's Hogwarts' best record," he called out after her.

"Not for long," Hermione said over her shoulder as she closed the door behind her. She was surprised to see Ginny had waited for her in the hallway. "Sorry, Gin, I didn't know you were waiting for me."

"What was that about?" the younger girl asked curiously.

"Oh, he asked for my help in the dueling club."

"He's actually... decent," Ginny said reluctantly as they had their dinner in the Great Hall. "Although I admit, the way he talks about the dark arts makes me curious. I wonder if McGonagall will call him out on it. He's right though… since we started Hogwarts, we've been taught defensive spells and how to deal with dark creatures and stuff… but nobody ever told us how we're supposed to recognize dark magic."

"He told me before that the line between dark magic and other kinds of magic is not a definite one," Hermione said. "He said it shifts, and sometimes blurs, and in the end, the intent of the witch or wizard is the major factor."

They made their way back to their common room.

"I wasn't expecting him to make a curriculum that is so structured."

"He's a good teacher," Hermione said. "You should sign up for the dueling club."

She shook her head. "And put myself at the other end of his wand? No thank you. I prefer to remain alive."

"Come on. He wouldn't allow a student to be killed. Not in his class," Hermione said. "Besides, I'll be there to watch."

"Watch what?" Scott asked as he entered through the portrait hole.

"The dueling club. Have you had DADA already?" Ginny asked.

"Oh yeah. Professor Riddle was cool. Though I was confused at first, because I thought You-Know-Who was scary looking. Half of the girls in my class were practically swooning at him, and mind you, that doesn't happen too much with Ravenclaws," he said, laughing.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at this. "He's intelligent. That appeals to Ravenclaws more than just the physical. I'm not surprised."

"Where's Draco?" Ginny asked.

"He's got patrols tonight," Hermione answered. "So he won't be in until after midnight."

Scott tossed his books onto the hardwood table and turned one of the lamps on. "You guys want to get started on that DADA homework? Doing spell diagrams can be a real headache."

"Oh, I already started on the first curse, you can take a look at my notes on the table," Hermione said. "I just made a cup of hot chocolate before finishing it."

Scott looked over her notes quickly. "Excellent," he said. "Because I started work earlier on the third curse. You realize if we work together we can finish this quicker?"

Hermione untucked her legs from under her. "Yes," she said, welcoming that she was actually working with someone who was not interested in just copying her notes. "And regarding the second curse, Draco is familiar with the _Tempesmordax_ curse so we should make short work of it."

Ginny frowned. "I feel bad not being able to contribute at all," she complained.

"You'll have your turn next time," Hermione said.

They set to work, with Ginny tackling the second curse while Draco was away. Hours later, Draco staggered into the common room, surprised to see them still awake. "You're still up?" he asked tiredly. "As Head Boy on duty tonight, I have to tell you that it's technically lights out."

"We were working on spell diagrams," Hermione said. "We're done with the first and third curse, you can finish up with the second with Ginny tomorrow."

"I haven't even had DADA yet," Draco said, peering at their work. "But yeah, I'll work on that one tomorrow. And Granger, if you're going on patrol tomorrow night, I would suggest taking a heavier coat. Winter seems to come earlier in this castle. Now go. Bedtime. The Head Boy commands you."

He was answered by three pairs of rolling eyes as his dorm mates trekked to their respective beds.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

After the first week, Defense Against the Dark Arts was clearly everyone's favorite subject. In addition to the novelty of having a real self-admitted dark wizard as a teacher, the class offered a healthy mixture of theoretics and practical applications, and by the end of the first week, the sign up sheet for the dueling club was full. Ginny had signed up at the last minute with Hermione, claiming the last space on the list.

"Ah, the thirty brave souls, or foolish, I presume," Tom said, taking the list off the board outside of his classroom when Ginny had just finished signing her name. "Hermione, will you let the students know that I secured the second floor classroom at the east corridor for every Thursday night for our purposes."

They were interrupted by a couple of Slytherin sixth years walking by his classroom. "Good afternoon, Professor Riddle," they both chanted in unison, giggling when Tom nodded back at them.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at this, and he shrugged. "See you in class tomorrow. Run along to your next class. Rabastan is preparing a thestral for you seventh years, I think. Good day, Miss Weasley."

He sent them along their way, and Ginny glanced at Hermione. "He called you Hermione," Ginny said curiously.

"He's called me by my name since I met his younger version after the battle of Hogwarts," Hermione explained. "Even when he gained this current form, he still calls me Hermione."

"What did you call him when you first met him? You knew at first look that he was Voldemort, didn't you?" Ginny asked.

"I called him Riddle at first," she answered. "We met in the library, right after the battle. All of you were still in the Great Hall. I went to the library to see if I can find answers as to why Harry wasn't able to defeat Voldemort. It was a hopeless cause, though, because when I got there all the books were in a mess. And then he showed up and I knew the answer."

"How was it? Your first meeting with him?"

Hermione's brow furrowed as she thought back to that time. "We were both hesitant," she said finally. "Me, because I knew he was Voldemort. And him, because… well, he said he was the soul that was in the diary and the cup, and some sort of old magic occurred in the chamber after I destroyed the cup. He didn't know anything that was happening in the war, and when I told him, well, I was surprised that he was surprised that things went this far."

"You mean it wasn't his original plan?" Ginny asked, incredulous.

"Oh, he wanted power over the Ministry. I think he just didn't approve of the way things had gone the past thirty years or so. He thought it was because he had fractured his soul so much that he sacrificed his methods." She paused as she pushed a lock of hair away from her face. "We talked about a lot of things. Argued about magic. Light and dark. Right and wrong. Muggles and wizards. At the end of it all, I understood him somewhat. I didn't agree with everything he said, but I got him. By then, we were sort of friends. As friendly as Tom Riddle could be. So you see, Ginny, I really _couldn't_ let Harry just kill him."

"If you say that it was the soul in the diary…"

"He remembers you," Hermione said bluntly. "I did tell him it wasn't nice, what he did to you before."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Really? And what did he have to say to that?"

"He said he had nothing against you, but he was just trying to gain a corporeal form," Hermione answered, sighing.

"Do you think he remembers all the stuff I wrote in it?" Ginny was worried. Of course. She had confided everything in that diary.

"He probably does," Hermione admitted. "Though he didn't say anything else to me."

"I wrote a lot of things in it about me," Ginny sighed.

"Well… Tom would most likely use that to his advantage, if needed," Hermione said. "But I think, for now, he is determined to be on his best behavior since majority of the community is still skeptical about him."

"Does it not scare you, to be alone with him?" Ginny asked. "That is what Harry and the Order members do not understand about your situation."

Hermione took a deep breath. "No, I'm not frightened to be alone with him. He'll never hurt me, Gin. You have to understand that he and I... have an understanding."

"What about the Death Eaters? Aren't you worried they will hurt you when he's not around?"

Hermione shook her head. "Tom and I have a blood bond. We formed it when we healed each other on separate occasions. He told his Death Eaters that I was an extension of himself, and for that reason, they leave me alone." She showed Ginny the scar on the palm of her hand.

Ginny gazed at her scar. "Who else knows about this?" she whispered.

"Draco knows the entire story behind it," she said. "The Death Eaters only know that we have a blood bond, they don't know how it came about. Don't tell anyone either, especially not Harry or Ron. I only told you as a token of trust, for being the first one in the Order to actually hear me out."

"Well, I'm not planning on telling anyone," she promised. "But how does it feel, being bonded to him?"

"It feels a little bit heady, knowing that he gave me his blood," Hermione confessed.

"You trust him," Ginny commented.

"I do, oddly enough," Hermione answered. "I only wish that Harry had trusted me before as well. Things could have turned out differently. Just promise me Ginny, that you will try to dissuade Harry from continuing this war. The other side is already laying down arms. Muggleborns are not being hunted anymore. Tom is going to make sure that every drop of magical blood is considered precious."

"Well, I don't have to see Harry or the rest of my family until the Christmas holidays, anyway," Ginny said. "Maybe with the cessation of attacks on the public, he'll simmer down as well. But I have to tell you one thing that's got Harry riled up: the Elder Wand."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "He wants it back?"

Ginny nodded. "That is one reason he's seeking out Voldemort. He wants to win the Elder Wand back."

"I don't know if Tom will give it up easily, but he might bargain with Harry for something else."

"You think Voldemort will just give away the Elder Wand in a bargain?" Ginny asked, surprised.

"He's not even using it, he prefers his yew wand," Hermione said. "He keeps the Elder Wand hidden in a safe place, if only to preserve the last surviving Hallow."

"Oh. Does he not want its power?"

"He says his spell casting is the same with either wand, so he doesn't believe the lore," Hermione said dryly. "He's got a lot of theories on magic that would take your head for a spin."

"I bet he does," Ginny said. "You like him, don't you, Hermione? I mean, I know you. The way you talk about him..."

"Just because I admire his prowess in magic doesn't mean I like him," Hermione said. "It just feels nice, the past few months, to have someone to talk to that understands my thought process so well, and to learn some new ideas in return."

Ginny looked at her with sympathy. "I hope you're not setting yourself up for a heartbreak, Hermione."

"Draco essentially said the same thing."

* * *

"Dueling," Tom said, gliding in front of a mesmerized group of fifth to seventh and eighth years. "It is an art as well as a science. It takes an equal amount of skill and forethought to gain the upper hand and, for some people, an incredibly large amount of luck, as you would know from my history, just to show you that I do know what I'm talking about."

There were a few tentative chuckles at his veiled joke about his and Harry's encounters. "However, it would be foolish to rely on luck alone, and that is why you are here."

Ginny cocked an eyebrow at Hermione. "I didn't know he could have a sense of humor," she whispered.

"He does," she whispered back. "But it's rather unpredictable."

Tom launched into a short lecture on the principle of stringing curses. Hermione had already learned it before, so she used the opportunity to observe the other students. It was a good group, composed evenly of students from every House. Draco was there, as were Daphne and Theo, being the oldest Slytherins present. Ravenclaw was represented by Scott, Luna, and several others. There were a few students from Hufflepuff. Neville, Parvati, and Ginny made up the Gryffindor contingent, together with a few others.

She was jolted out of her reverie when Tom called her attention. "Miss Granger. I believe they would benefit from a demonstration of the succession technique I was talking about." He gestured for her to join him at the front. "Don't worry, you will still have your Head Girl intact after this exercise. I don't want to get fired on my first month here."

There was another wave of tentative sniggers. Tom took Hermione's hand and led her to the front. "Give it your best shot," he whispered to her, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk.

She smiled as he walked a few paces away before turning back to her. They both sank into a bow, and as soon as they straightened up, Hermione launched into the offensive. " _Reducto! Confringo! Impedimenta!_ " she cried, her hand moving through the air as if she was dancing.

Tom parried her attacks, and when she fired a few more, he disarmed her with a nonverbal Expelliarmus. Hermione's wand sailed through the air, but before he could grab it, she summoned in back to her with a nonverbal Accio.

"Excellent," Tom said, dropping his defensive stance as he held up a hand to signal the end of the demonstration. "And a good point made, as well. Simply because you have disarmed your opponent doesn't mean it is the end of the duel. Good form, Miss Granger, although you dipped your wand a little too far with your last slicing hex which gave me the opening to disarm you. Thank you for your assistance."

Hermione took her seat again, though she noticed that the other students were giving her looks of admiration. She threw a smirk at Draco, who smirked back at her. "That was wicked," Ginny whispered to Hermione. "He taught you that?"

She nodded. "That, and more. I can't believe I dipped my wand too much that last time." She practiced the movement wordlessly as Tom broke the students up into pairs, with Ginny ending up paired with Draco. She found herself standing alone, having no partner, while Tom went around correcting students as needed. Hermione found herself a desk and sat on top of it, watching the students duel one another. Already, she could spot those that had a lot of promise in them. Draco and Ginny were naturals at it. Luna was doing well, but Neville kept on fumbling his wand movements. He was throwing worried looks at Tom, who was circling around the students. Hermione bit her lip, wanting to help Neville, but she did not want to preempt their teacher.

Soon, Tom came upon Neville. "What's the problem, Mr. Longbottom?" he asked. "I recall that you are made of sterner stuff than this, having killed my pet snake and all."

Neville paled, but the rest of the club was halfway between smiling and watching in frightful anticipation. Tom merely smiled at his own joke and continued to stand over Neville. "You might be good with a sword, but you are a wizard first and foremost and it is your magic that you should master." He rapped Neville's arm with his wand. "Start by stringing something as simple as two spells together. A simple attack executed perfectly always wins over a fumbled complicated one. Perhaps by next month we can have you string _three_ curses together."

The club broke into private smiles, and Tom turned to Hermione with a slight upturn of his lips. Hermione realized that he was in his element. He was teaching magic, the one thing in the world that he valued, and was surrounded by people who recognized his talents and abilities. He was so sure of himself in that group that he could afford to make snide comments that bordered on being humorous, and even if he was making jokes on his expense, it only served to solidify the growing admiration of the group of students with him.

 _He will be popular among the students before the end of the first term,_ Hermione thought.

Tom left the students on their own to lean against the desk Hermione was sitting on. "They adore me already," he said smugly. "I never thought I would find teaching to be this fun. Dumbledore must be turning in his grave right now if he knew how much the students could like me."

"I'm sure he is," Hermione muttered, earning a laugh from him.

"You see, Hermione, some of them are naturals, and some need a bit of work. That Longbottom boy's problem is his confidence, not his magic. He has an adequate reserve of it, I can feel it from him, but the moment he casts a spell he thinks he's gotten in wrong, and it interrupts the flow of magic from his body through to his wand. Intent is always important." Tom shook his head. "I can't believe that's the kid that killed one of my Horcruxes."

"You seem to speak so candidly about it," she said.

"Well, technically speaking, it wasn't really me, it was the other me," he said. "I admit, there were a lot of foolish things Voldemort has done, and I take comfort in the fact that _I_ will not be doing anything as foolish. Talking about it in an offhand manner will make people accept me more. Majority of the wizarding world is still wary of me, but these students... People have a way of believing children. If I win their acceptance, then I will be accepted in the regular household. And if their parents are too stubborn to listen to their children... Give a decade or so and these same children will be the ones in the Ministry. It's a long-term plan of securing my influence. Granted, it's not as fun as genocide, but it's more foolproof."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, it seems to be working."

"You and Miss Weasley seem to be getting along well. I trust she is giving you no trouble?"

"We have agreed to leave Order business outside Hogwarts' walls and just be ordinary students this time around," she said.

"Wise choice," he commented.

She nodded again, and he pushed off the table with renewed energy. He called up the rest of the club to comment on each of their strong and weak points. It was already almost ten in the evening when he released them, but all of the students were smiling, including Neville who managed to execute a two-part attack right before the club ended.

Hermione waved goodbye to Draco, Ginny and Scott, and proceeded on her patrol. Students were not allowed to wander the corridors past ten, and Hermione walked through her route checking through every corridor to make sure that all the classroom doors were properly closed. It was half past eleven when she finished her rounds, and she was on her way back to the Heads room when she came across Tom in the corridor.

He had removed his robes, and his white shirt was unbuttoned at the top, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and she thought he never looked more tempting. He smelled of parchment, and the tips of the fingers of his left hand sported some smudge of ink.

"Grading papers?" she asked, nodding towards his hand.

He followed her gaze and sighed when he saw his hand. "Yes. Remind me not to give too much paperwork next time. It might be a good idea to team teach some of the classes, as the subject matter is really… Imagine teaching Defense for fourteen different batches."

"I can't," she said. "But I do know that Defense Against the Dark Arts is everyone's favorite class by far, so…"

"It's the novelty of having me as the teacher," he said.

"Every teacher we've had in DADA has been novel in some way," she pointed out. "But I admit, you do top the scale."

"Watch yourself, Miss Granger, or I might have to deduct points from Gryffindor for your cheekiness."

She rolled her eyes. "I really wish you weren't my professor right now."

"Any particular reason, Hermione?" he asked, his question just sounding too innocent to her.

She shook her head and smiled at him. "No particular reason, Professor. Wouldn't want to give you an excuse to deduct points."

Tom quickly looked over his shoulder to check if they were alone, then suddenly, his hand was on Hermione's waist and she felt the cold trickle of a disillusionment charm run down her back. Tom leaned forward to quickly brush his lips against hers. "How's that for an excuse?" he asked impishly before releasing her. "Good night, Miss Granger. Lights out in ten minutes."

Hermione gasped as he left her too soon for her liking. She quickly looked up and down the corridor to make sure that no one was there before running the rest of the way to the Heads common room. As the portrait swung shut behind her, she saw that Ginny was still awake, sitting on the study table, squinting at the spot where Hermione was standing.

"Hermione?" the younger girl asked. "Is that you?"

Hermione quickly cast a Finite on herself. "Yes, it's me," she said.

"Why in the world were you Disillusioned?"

Hermione waved her hand vaguely. "Thought I heard someone sneaking around the corridors."

"Oh. Did you find someone?"

"No, I didn't." _Just your Head Girl and your DADA professor._


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

It was the beginning of October, and it meant two things. Quidditch season had started, so Ginny was away at practice most days. However, it also meant that the Halloween Feast was coming up and the Heads had to start organizing the event.

Draco and Hermione had called a meeting with the prefects in their dormitory after dinner one night, and divided up the work that needed to be done for the upcoming feast.

"I thought we'd leave the logistics and decoration of the place to the Ravenclaw prefects," Hermione said, nodding to the pair concerned. "Hufflepuff prefects will take charge of the food, Gryffindor and Slytherin will work on the program and games."

The Gryffindor and Slytherin prefects brightened up at the idea of games. "The thirty-first of October falls on a Saturday, so we can start about...say, six in the evening? Start with dinner?" Elizabeth, the Slytherin prefect, asked.

"Yes, dinner first, probably. You'll have to ask the Headmistress if she wants to give a speech first, or if she wants to speak after everyone has eaten," Draco said.

"Maybe start with the dinner first, open the Great Hall at six, then people can trickle in and eat until about half past seven when the program starts," Hermione said.

Simon, the other Slytherin prefect, thought about it. "Yes, then we'll get the Headmistress to give a speech to formally open the program. Then what follows after that?"

"Since this is an effort to have interhouse unity, why not ask the different clubs to perform? Like Professor Flitwick's choir is made up of different houses. Maybe they can do a number or two." Eleanor, from Gryffindor, said. "The dueling club might like to do a demonstration. What other clubs do you think will want to join? It won't be a contest, just a showcasing of talents."

"So we'll have to have an area in the middle of the Great Hall cleared as a sort of stage," the Ravenclaw prefect said.

"But the students will also be wanting some contests," Simon said.

"We'll have the usual best costume contest," Hermione said. "One from each house, so we will have four winners. We'd better think of a prize..."

Ideas were pouring in from all sides, but it was when Garett, the Gryffindor prefect, mentioned a hunting game that everyone got genuinely excited.

"Imagine, like in the Triwizard tournament, they made the Quidditch pitch into a huge maze? We could do the same thing! People will join two teams, and their objective is to go through the maze, or obstacle course, to...maybe eliminate the members of the other team? Two teams, with members from different houses, working together for the win. It's perfect!"

"We can give them fake wands that only shoot out a certain color of body paint, so we'll know which students get hit and are out of the game," Ginny said, grinning.

"And then the prefects and the heads will fly above the maze to act as lookouts," Draco said.

"Er... count me out of that part," Hermione said. "It's a good idea, but do you think the teachers will help us create a course that big? It took the Ministry months to grow that maze."

"It's worth a shot asking them," Eleanor said. "I mean, Professor Riddle is one of the best wizards around. I'm sure he can do something about it if we ask him."

All eyes turned to Hermione, who looked back at them innocently. "What?" she asked.

"Hermione, come on, everyone knows you're friends with him," Eleanor said. Draco snorted into his tea cup.

"Fine, I'll ask him," Hermione said. "But we should take up this plan with the Headmistress first to get her approval."

"I'll take care of McGonagall," Ginny said confidently. "Let's push this thing through."

* * *

It was after their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson the next day that Hermione and Ginny approached Tom, who was busy shoving several pieces of parchment into his briefcase.

"Professor," Hermione began, finding it weird to be addressing him so.

He paused at what he was doing to look up at them from the other side of the desk. "Yes?"

"We're working on something for the Halloween Feast, and we're wondering if you can help us out," Hermione said.

"Do you want to borrow a Death Eater costume? I believe I already phased that one out," he said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Hermione laughed. "No, certainly not," she said. Ginny looked amused herself.

"We want to build a maze, or an obstacle course like the one from the Triwizard tournament four years ago," Ginny said. "But the Halloween Feast is only four weeks away and we're not sure if there is a way to build something as massive in that short a time."

"I wasn't exactly around during that Triwizard tournament," he said. "How did this maze work?"

"Well, it changes... it's hard to explain," Hermione said. "I can let you see."

He nodded at this, meeting her eyes to cast a quick Legilimens. Hermione put her memories of the maze forward, showing him how the maze changed on its own, and stopping right before Cedric Diggory's body turned up. She didn't think he would have liked to see that. He withdrew from her thoughts just as quickly as he entered it, and pressed his lips together.

"Those look like evergreen plants that have been infused with a changeling spell. They are grown for a period of eight weeks, and there is no magical way to accelerate their growth," he said. "But you can construct a regular maze, without the magic, if all you want is a space where the students can play. I'm in the mood for a cup of hot chocolate. Would you two like to join me in my office?"

"Yes, thank you," Hermione said. They had a free period anyway, and she knew that Tom had a stock of the best hot chocolate in the wizarding world.

They followed him to the front of the classroom, where a door led into his office. The two girls settled down on the arm chairs in front of his table as Tom waved his wand at a kettle in a corner, setting it to boil. He poured them each a mug of hot chocolate and levitated the cups to them.

"Thank you," Ginny said, seemingly shy to be accepting his hospitality considering that her boyfriend was the one who was trying to kill him.

"Tell me more about this maze you want built," he said, leaning back in his chair.

Hermione launched into a detailed description of the game they wanted to hold, and he listened attentively. When she was done, he was thoughtful. "For the purposes of your activity, you can create a regular course, no need for the changeling plants. It is, after all, only for fun, and the plants may be too much for the first and second years to fathom. May I suggest creating a terrain that gives the students the opportunity to hide and to circle behind their enemies? You can put up little houses in one part, with small alleys in between them, a small forest in another part... you get me, don't you? A miniature town for a playground. Normal trees, I can grow magically, so you won't have to worry about the time frame."

Hermione turned to Ginny. "I think that's reasonable enough," she said. "We'll make it work, Gin."

Ginny was hesitant. "None of us are really good enough to make a miniature town in the middle of the Quidditch pitch."

"Flitwick is good at enlarging charms, all you have to do is make a small scale model of the structures you want in the course," he told them. "I will help you with the layout to make it interesting, if you wish. All in good fun."

* * *

October passed by steadily, but the excitement at Hogwarts kept mounting as news of the contest, now called Blitzpaint, spread among the students. Even some of the teachers were eagerly giving their advice on the particulars of the course, but Garett and Eleanor, the pair who had spearheaded the idea, always had Professor Riddle for the last say on things.

Hermione looked at the Gryffindor pair as they consulted with Tom the final layout of the course. She was in the library, reading through a text on Ancient Runes, when Tom had entered to make a beeline for the Restricted Section. He had emerged a few minutes later, carrying a book, and she was about to catch his attention when Eleanor and Garett accosted him and led him to their table, where he bent over a parchment she supposed was a map of the course they were planning.

Hermione turned when she felt Draco slide into the seat next to her. "Granger, looks like you got some competition for the Professor's attention," he said, grinning.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Eleanor likes him. Seriously. I mean, look at that blouse she's got. Its top two buttons are undone."

She looked across the library and frowned. Draco was right. "She's welcome to try," she said stiffly. "But that's beside the point. We're not together, contrary to what you keep on insisting. Anyway, why are you really here, Draco? Need something?" she asked.

"Yeah." He scratched his head. "I wanted to ask what you were going to do for a costume on Halloween."

"I don't know yet. Do you have an extra Death Eater mask I can borrow?" she joked.

He rolled his eyes. "Come on, I didn't even get one of those. I was thinking of going as a vampire."

"I could go as a vampire as well," she said. "We could be like, the Head Boy and Head Girl vampire!"

He looked doubtful. "Like a couple thing? I don't want to be avada'd by our DADA professor."

"He's not going to avada you. You're his favorite Death Eater," she said, reaching out to ruffle his hair before he could pull away.

"Stop that, I'm not," Draco said, batting her hand away.

"'Draco, take Bellatrix's seat'," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "You keep saying I've got something going with him, but that 'take Bellatrix's seat'… that one is real."

"It's not," he said. "He hasn't asked anything of me since then."

"He knows you're finishing school," Hermione said. "After you graduate, that's when he'll work you. I'm glad I'm not a Death Eater."

"What are you, then? If not his bedmate?" Draco asked seriously.

"Hush!" she said to him fiercely. "I'm… he sort of implied that I'm his conscience."

Draco groaned. "Merlin, I hope he won't let me work on house elf rights as soon as I graduate."

Hermione picked up a roll of parchment and hit him over the head with it. "And what would be so bad about that?" she hissed at him.

"Ow, Granger!" he exclaimed.

Suddenly, a buzz echoed through the library as Madam Pince threw them a disapproving look. "Sorry," Hermione muttered as she sank back down in her seat, blushing at being hushed by the librarian in what she considered was her own personal sanctuary. She was too embarrassed to notice Tom Riddle's eyes looking at them curiously from across the room.

* * *

The night of the Halloween Feast came about and Hermione did end up going as a vampire with Draco. She had used a simple charm to grow her canines a few millimeters longer and put on the deepest red lipstick she could find in Ginny's arsenal.

The Hufflepuffs have done a splendid job with the feast. The tables were pushed against either sides of the long hall, so that students can grab a plate and go around to mingle with others while eating dinner. It was a testament that the school was succeeding in its efforts to foster friendship between the different Houses, for without their House colors, the students were indistinguishable in terms of Houses.

Hermione took a plate for herself and stood off to one side, pleased with the start of the evening. Ginny had gone off to be with her other friends from her year, and Draco was with Theo and Blaise.

"Miss Granger," a voice said at her elbow, and she turned to see McGonagall standing there with a pumpkin hat on her head.

"Professor," she said a little nervously. She hadn't spoken with McGonagall in private since coming back to Hogwarts, and the Headmistress did not make any efforts to meet with her either out of her Head Girl duties.

The older woman smiled, looking a little strained. "I just wanted to tell you that I think you and the other heads are doing a great job so far the first couple of months. I must admit, I had reservations about you and Mr. Malfoy as the Heads, but even now you don't disappoint me."

"It was never my intention to disappoint anyone, Professor," she said, her words heavy with meaning.

"My dear, a lot of things has happened that is out of our control," the witch said gravely. "But your friendship with Voldemort, or Professor Riddle, as he is known here, it is not forced, is it?"

"No, Professor," she said honestly. "All of my interactions with him even from before were not forced."

"Hermione," she said, her strict countenance breaking a little. "Even though I've been your teacher all these years, I have always thought of you as a daughter, coming from my House. This recent turn of events is not to my liking, to have you distanced from the Order, from your friends."

"I have not distanced myself from them, Professor, they have distanced themselves from me," she said firmly. "Harry can still consider me a friend, as I wish him no ill will. I'm not sure I can say the same of his intentions towards me."

McGonagall looked sad. "I read about what he let slip to the Daily Prophet. He was worried about the threat of Voldemort."

Hermione nodded towards Tom, who was, at the moment, sitting at the staff table conversing with Horace Slughorn. "Do you feel threatened with him here, Professor?" she asked.

"Yes, because I know what he is capable of doing."

"But he hasn't done anything, has he?" she asked. "All I asked from Harry was the chance to listen to me, but he shut the door. It is that same closed-mindedness that Voldemort had in the past that led him to do atrocious things that led to his own difficulties. If you take the chance and talk with Professor Riddle, Headmistress, and I mean have a real conversation with him, you will find that he listens. He is strongly opinionated, yes, and he likes to do things his own way, but he still listens and if he sees enough merit in what you are saying, he does not deny it."

Across the room, Tom looked to see her conversing with McGonagall. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she acknowledged him with a small smile and a nod. She then turned to McGonagall. "Oddly enough, he's concerned about my safety because of the members of the Order. It's the other way around now, Professor. You are right, it is a weird turn of events, and I'm sure this story's ending is still a long way off."

"You're right about that," McGonagall said. "You are a bright witch, and know that I will take your words into consideration."

The Headmistress excused herself to prepare for her speech, which followed the dinner immediately. Then the students sat on either side of the Great Hall as members of the dueling club made their demonstration, followed by the school choir, and the dance troupe. Soon it was time for Blitzpaint, the event everyone had been waiting for.

The students and the teachers all trekked to the Quidditch pitch, wrapped in warm clothes against the chilly night air. It was already half past eight, and the cold air was biting. Hermione wrapped her coat tightly around her and suddenly felt the warm trickle of a warming charm on her head. She turned to see Tom walking beside her, and he flashed her a smile.

"I see you've grown your canines back to their normal size," he said.

"It was hard to eat with them so long," she said, laughing. "I must say, you did an amazing job with the terrain."

He looked proud as they stood at the edge of the Quidditch pitch, which now looked like a miniature town on one side that morphed into a dense woodland further south. Eleanor and Garett were briefing the two teams on the rules of the game. The players were given custom wands that only shot out paint of a particular color, so that the lookouts knew who were out of the game. Draco and Ginny were flying over the pitch as the lookouts. Each of the teams were composed of twenty players each, coming from different Houses. Eleanor pointed her wand at the sky, shooting out red sparks to indicate the start of the game.

Hermione sat with Tom in the box reserved for the staff. He had pulled her in after him, saying that as Head Girl, she was allowed to sit with some of the teachers. She didn't protest, as McGonagall, who was in the box with them, only gave her a small nod as she sat down.

"You can see, if you have a strategist's mind, that there are several alleys they could use to make a pincer attack," Tom told her. "Of course they have to keep in mind that the enemy could outflank them as well."

"You've thought out the layout quite well," Hermione said.

"I don't do things halfway, you should know by now," he said.

She nodded her head in affirmation, aware that McGonagall was listening in on their conversation as well as she could amidst the scattered cheering from the rest of the student body as they called out encouragements to their friends.

He looked up at the sky, where a few rain clouds were gathering. "It might rain. Did you have any contingency for that?"

She snorted. "Students watch Quidditch games even if there's a storm. I doubt that a little rain would put them off tonight."

"Have you ever heard of weather runes?" he asked her.

"Yes, though they are considered rare," she said. "It can help the bearer to manipulate the weather."

He did not say anything else, though his eyes were trained intently on the happenings of the game. When the first drops of rain came falling down, he casually conjured an umbrella and held it over them. Hermione was right, the students were not bothered by the rain at all, too interested in the match going on before them. Already both teams were cut down to half, the ousted players sitting by the sidelines, disappointed.

Suddenly, Draco swooped down right in front of the staff box. "Professor McGonagall," he said, panting. "We need to get the students inside. There was a manticore spotted at the edge of the Forbidden Forest and it's on its way here."

Hermione sat up straight. "But manticores are not native to the Forbidden Forest," she said.

McGonagall wasted no time in getting to her feet, casting the Sonorous Charm on herself and announced that the game was to be cancelled immediately. She ordered all of the students to head back to the castle as fast as they can. Hermione stood up as well to help with the evacuation.

Tom stood up with her, but he had his mind on other things. "Rabastan," he said, his voice terse.

The Care of Magical Creatures teacher was at his side in an instant. "Yes, my lord?" he asked.

"Someone conjured this storm with the use of a weather rune. Find him. I'm going to head off the manticore before it meets the students going back to the castle. Draco, your broom."

"But it takes more than a couple of wizards to take down a manticore," Hermione said, turning to him.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Hermione, that not all books are correct?" he said to her as he took Draco's broom and mounted it. "Get the students inside the castle." He shot off into the night, leaving Hermione in a panic. She turned to Rabastan.

"Go after him?" she said hesitantly. "I'll look for the weather runes."

Rabastan looked at her and smiled. "I wish I could, Miss Granger, but when the Dark Lord tells us to do something, it is best to do as he says. Get yourself back to the castle safely."

Hermione huffed and looked around. Draco had already gone off to herd the students into the castle as the teachers lined the way, all of them on the lookout for the manticore. Hermione made her way to the castle, and halfway there, she turned to the direction of the Forbidden Forest when she saw a spark of light from a curse in the distance.

"But I thought manticores are resistant to magic," a worried third year said as he passed by Hermione. "How could Professor Riddle hope to defeat it?"

The answer came when the field was illuminated in a bright orange fire. "Fiendfyre," Hermione breathed. Of course. Fiendfyre burned everything in its path. The students stopped walking, mesmerized at the tall flames that morphed into a huge snake that blocked the manticore's path to the castle. The fire snake lunged at the manticore, its form now illuminated by the flames as it snarled back at the fire.

Hermione saw Hagrid running towards the manticore as well, a bundle of long iron poles in his hand. Tom saw the poles, and levitated them right out of Hagrid's hand, quickly constructing a huge iron cage in the air that he dropped onto the manticore. The beast lunged at the bars, which shook but held fast against it. When he was sure that the manticore was contained, Tom extinguished his Fiendfyre, drawing it back into his wand, making it all seem very simple.

All the students had filed back into the castle by now, murmuring excitedly about everything that happened that night now that the manticore danger had passed. They lingered in the Great Hall and the foyer, and it was taking the prefects all of their patience telling them to head to their dormitories.

Soon, it was only the Heads and the Prefects that were waiting in the hall when Tom walked in, having left Hagrid with the business of transporting the manticore out of Hogwarts grounds. He looked around quickly, not seeming to notice that his right arm was bloody from a scratch he must have gotten from the manticore. He thrust Draco's broomstick back to him. "Where is Rabastan?" he asked no one in particular.

"I think he's still out," Hermione said.

"Professor, you're bleeding," Eleanor said.

Tom looked down at his arm briefly before casting a simple healing charm. Before he could say anything else, Rabastan walked into the Great Hall. He looked at Tom, and said, "I found the weather runes, but whoever cast them was long gone by the time I found them. My apologies, my lord."

Tom held out his hand, and Rabastan dropped three stones in his palm. He examined the stones closely. "Nordic runes. Should be easier to trace them, as only a few of them are in circulation." He handed the stones to McGonagall. "I will leave these with you, Headmistress."

"Do you mean to say that the manticore was a planned attack on Hogwarts?" McGonagall said, pocketing the stones.

Tom almost sneered. "Well, don't look at me, I had nothing to do with it." He then paused, as if a thought had struck him. "If someone can ask it how it ended up in the Forbidden Forest, perhaps we can get to the bottom of this. Rabastan, ask your brother to find out anything he can about the illegal trade in the black market. A manticore is a difficult thing to get into this country unnoticed."

"Yes, my lord," Rabastan said, bowing before he was dismissed.

"Also, I'm not sure if there are any other dangerous beasts lurking in the Forbidden Forest," Tom said to McGonagall. "Manticores are by nature solitary animals, so I doubt that it came here with another. But it is not something I would bet my life on."

McGonagall nodded wearily. "I'll have Hagrid comb the Forest tomorrow. In the meantime, students should not linger outside the castle without the supervision of a teacher. Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, make sure the castle is secure. I will take care of the reporting of this incident to the Ministry."

Hermione nodded wordlessly as the rest of the teaching staff dispersed. She looked longingly at Tom, relieved that he was fine but unable to express herself in front of the other prefects and deputy heads. Draco hoisted his broom on his shoulder.

"You heard the Headmistress," he said. "Prefects and deputy heads may go to their dorms. Granger and I will take everything from here."

Draco and Hermione stood together as the rest of the party left. Hermione looked at Draco gratefully, and only when the three of them were alone in the foyer did she go to Tom to look at his wound, but found that it was completely healed by now.

"You're all right?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," he said. "But I'm curious. Who would set a manticore loose on Hogwarts grounds? A manticore does not choose its victims."

"I don't know," Hermione said. "We still have to make rounds to make sure that the castle is secure."

Tom nodded. "See you tomorrow, Hermione." Then in an unexpected move, he bent down to kiss her quickly on the lips. She gasped as he drew back with a smirk at Draco. "Draco," he said, nodding before walking away.

Draco was looking around quickly. "Bloody hell, Granger," he muttered. "I don't think I like being the dark lord's favorite Death Eater."


	18. Chapter 18

warning: adult material ahead. please be responsible if you are underage. thank you!

* * *

Chapter 18

It turned out that Tom's way of getting the manticore to talk was by casting Legilimens on it. However, it was hard to sift through the mind of a being that was mostly animal than man, and the disorganized images he had obtained only managed to give him a headache by lunch time the next day. It didn't matter, though, that he was sitting at the staff table with a hand to his temple. The whole incident with the manticore only fueled the growing respect and admiration of the students for him. Horace Slughorn, sensing his influence on the students, even passed by his seat to hand him a Painless Potion for his headache.

The rest of the weekend passed by without further incident. Truly, after all the excitement leading up to the Halloween Feast, the students were feeling down cooped up inside the castle until Hagrid finished surveying the Forbidden Forest.

Hermione was restless. She knew Tom had nothing to do with the manticore attack, but she had an inkling that it had something to do with him. Perhaps someone was trying to get him fired from his teaching position. However, it was a long shot, and she really couldn't see the point of it all.

"Maybe it was meant to be a distraction," she said to Ginny. The two of them were in their respective beds, getting ready to start another week of classes.

Ginny looked over at her from the bed. "Huh?" she asked, puzzled.

"When we were in first year, someone let a troll into Hogwarts as a distraction so Quirell can have a go at the philosopher's stone," Hermione told her. "Maybe the manticore was lured to Hogwarts to be a distraction, too."

"That seems stupid," Ginny said, scowling. "If it was meant to be a distraction, then something else should have happened. But the whole weekend passed and everything's normal, so maybe the manticore was just a prank."

"Quite a dangerous one," Hermione said.

"Maybe Voldemort did it."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Since when did you stop calling him Professor Riddle?"

"Just because he teaches at Hogwarts doesn't mean he's stopped being Voldemort, has he?" Ginny said, shrugging.

"No, it wasn't Tom," Hermione murmured, reaching out to turn her bedside lamp off. She slid down so that she was flat on the bed, knowing it was time to go to sleep but her mind still refusing to let go of the motive behind the manticore.

"You're sure?"

"Yes, he wouldn't jeopardize his position at Hogwarts," Hermione said with certainty.

Ginny turned sideways in her bed to gaze at her. "Don't you think he's really just good at pretending?"

Hermione chuckled. "Oh, he's definitely good at pretending," she agreed. "But he doesn't have cause to endanger the students and his currently decent reputation in the school. His methods are sound, compared to what we've seen before. I told you, he's different this time around."

"It's so easy for you to defend him," Ginny said, a trace of annoyance in her voice.

"I'm not defending him, Gin," Hermione scoffed. "I'm just saying, he didn't have anything to do with the manticore. I was with him when we learned about it. He was just as surprised as I was."

"Well, you did say he was good at pretending," Ginny said, finally turning away and putting out her own lamp. "Good night, Hermione."

"Good night."

* * *

It didn't take long for the memory of the manticore to be pushed to the back of everyone's minds as tedious schoolwork and other extracurriculars took its place at the forefront.

"Gryffindor versus Slytherin on Saturday," Ginny said, looping her arm through Hermione's as the pair walked to their Defense Against the Dark Arts class after breakfast in the Great Hall. "Are you going to watch?"

"What with you and Draco bothering me about my lack of support for school sports, I just might," Hermione answered with a smile.

"I miss playing Quidditch," Ginny said.

"Well, it's Quidditch season, so you should be getting plenty of it," Hermione said.

"It's Hogsmeade weekend as well," Ginny said a little nervously. "Hermione, Harry made plans to meet me in Hogsmeade. It's… I think it would be a good idea if you came with me and see Harry for yourself. You've been telling me to caution him against Professor Riddle, but it might be better if you meet with him yourself."

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Is Harry ready to listen to me now?" she asked.

Ginny looked wistful. "I think if he spends some time with you… he'll remember what it was like to be friends with you. He misses you. Him and Ron."

Hermione felt a tug on her heart. "I miss them too," she said softly. "If Harry will meet with me, and if he promises no more unnecessary outbursts or fits, then I'll be glad to meet him."

Ginny slung her arm around Hermione's shoulders, giving her a one-armed hug. "That's great!" she said happily. "It will be just like old times."

"I doubt it," Hermione muttered as she pushed the door to their classroom open, and took her seat with Ginny at the front row, as usual.

Tom started the class promptly, lecturing on the ways of detecting the Imperius curse on a person. It was a topic Hermione had already read on extensively, so she listened with only half an ear as she watched Tom move in front of the classroom. She doubted if meeting with Harry would simply bring them all back to how the 'old times' were, as she was now dealing with the existence of Tom in her life. Though she wanted her old friends back, she cannot deny that she wanted to remain friends with Tom as well.

She was drawn out of her contemplations when she realized that Tom was throwing perplexed looks in her direction. It was very subtle, a mere crease in between his eyebrows, but she could tell. She surreptitiously checked her person to see if she had her uniform on properly, or if anything else was out of the ordinary, but found nothing. It was unnerving, since Tom was always careful about not singling her out in class.

After an hour of lectures and questions, the class was dismissed. Hermione gathered her things and slipped them into her bag. Ginny was already standing up, waiting for her, but as the class filed out of the classroom, Tom spoke up.

"Miss Weasley," he said, tapping a roll of parchment in his hand. "Would you stay after class? There are a few points in your blood magic homework I want to take up with you."

Ginny stared at him like a deer caught in headlights. "Professor?" she said, her voice a little higher than usual. "I've got Transfiguration after."

Tom nodded. "I will send a note to Professor McGonagall informing her that you are with me. No need to worry."

Hermione slung her bag strap over her shoulder. "I'll see you later, Ginny," she said, giving the other girl's arm a squeeze and earning her an unexpected icy look from Tom. "Good day, Professor."

"Have you seen Ginny?" Draco asked Hermione that afternoon. It was five in the afternoon already. "It's just that she asked last week to switch patrol duty with me for tonight because she has Quidditch on Saturday."

"I haven't seen her since Defense," Hermione answered.

"Do you think something's up? Professor Riddle cancelled all of his classes for today," he said, sitting down beside her.

"Of course I think something's up," she said snappily. "Why do you think I'm camping out here two doors down from the Defense classroom? That's where I last saw her." She sincerely hoped that Tom wasn't doing anything nefarious with Ginny.

Draco ran a hand through his hair. "You don't have any idea?" he asked.

"I actually do, but I'm hoping that I'm wrong," she said testily. "I'm just waiting for confirmation. It should come any minute now."

"Geez, Granger, nothing like taking your anger out on me," he said, holding his hands up.

"I'm sorry Draco, but you just have to deal with it," she said, toning down her voice a little bit.

Draco was just contemplating if he should just leave her be when the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom swung upon and Tom came stalking out. He looked furious, and his eyes fell on the pair waiting down the hall.

"Draco," he said. "Get the Headmistress to meet me in my classroom. Hermione, come with me."

Draco jumped and did as he was told, and Hermione followed Tom back into his classroom, closing the door behind her.

"Tom, what is it?" she asked, her voice trembling just slightly.

"This," Tom hissed, hauling a red-faced Ron from a chair and shoving him forward until he fell over a desk, unable to right himself because he was in a full body bind curse. "He was Polyjuiced as Ginny Weasley. Did you know anything about this, Hermione?"

"Of course not!" she said, shaking her head and looking down at Ron, who was looking up at her from where he lay on the desk. "I suspected just this morning, when you asked Ginny to stay."

"He was with you for almost a week," Tom said, his anger still fresh. "He was with you, in your room, sleeping where you sleep, watching you and touching you while you walk along these halls."

Hermione looked at Ron and clamped a hand to her mouth, feeling sick at hearing Tom's words. "I didn't know," she said, a little more weakly this time.

Tom sucked in his breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Go," he muttered. "McGonagall and I will deal with this. Tell no one."

She didn't need to be told twice. She turned around and almost ran all the way back to the Heads dormitory. She wrenched open her bedroom door and flung herself on the bed, still trying to repress the bile from rising up her throat.

Ron had been with her the whole week, when she thought she was spending time with Ginny. She remembered the times they had sat elbow to elbow, arm against arm as they worked through their texts. The way he slung his arm around her when they walked from class to class. It wasn't out of the ordinary, as the trio of them were physical in the demonstration of their friendship in the past, holding hands, walking arm in arm. She had even spent nights sleeping with them in one tent. But the fact that she didn't know it was him this time felt malicious. She had _walked_ around their room in nothing but a towel a few times while she got dressed for class. She felt her skin crawl as she imagined him looking at her while she dressed, and she suppressed another lurch of her stomach.

There was a knock on her door, and she looked up to see Draco. "Granger? Are you…. Well, obviously you're not okay," he said, stepping into the room.

"Ron used the manticore as a distraction to switch places with Ginny" Hermione said glumly. "He's been with me the entire week… why?"

"I can't pretend to fathom what goes on in his head," he said, coming closer to sit at the edge of her bed. "The headmistress is with him now, deciding what to do with him. I left them before knowing anything more."

"He was here in my room," she said, sitting up and shaking her head, anger and humiliation making tears pool in her eyes. "Watching me sleep, watching me get dressed for school, putting his arm around me as we walk to class, all of that without my knowledge. It makes my skin crawl." She rubbed her hands up and down her arms and shivered as if repulsed with the thought.

"How can I have been so stupid?" she asked him.

"Look, it was such a hair-brained plan that I don't think you would ever have thought him capable of doing it," he said, reaching out to rub her back in an effort to comfort her. "It's just too creepy."

"I would have talked to him, or met him at a Hogsmeade weekend, if he wanted to see me," she said. "But to sneak in and do it this way… I never want to see him again."

"I can't blame you," he said. "Look, it's time for dinner. Walk with me to the Great Hall?"

She shook her head. "No, you go ahead. I feel sick to my stomach."

"Sure? Want me to bring you back something for later?"

"No, I don't want anything," she said. "I'll be fine by myself. Really, Draco. Thanks."

He left her, and she laid back down in her bed. Why had Ron come to her at Hogwarts? She was sure it wasn't to hurt her.

There was a footfall just outside her door, and she raised her head to see Tom standing there. "I told Draco to give me an hour alone here with you," he said smoothly, all traces of his previous rage gone from his voice.

Hermione sat up again and closed her eyes with a tired sigh, causing a tear to run down her cheek. "I feel violated," she said.

He sat down beside her. "You know I can detect magical signatures," he said. "Ron Weasley's signature is similar to his sister's, I doubt you would have recognized it even if you had looked."

"I must look really pitiful if you're trying to make me feel better about something I overlooked," she said bitterly.

"No, it's a really subtle difference," he insisted. "Only, I am very familiar with Miss Weasley, having possessed her briefly with my diary before. Of course I would see the difference, even if not right away."

"They switched during the confusion of the manticore, didn't they?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.

"Yes. I looked into his mind. Ginny Weasley was unaware of the plan, I suppose to make her plead deniability."

"Why did he do it, Tom?"

"It was about you, not me," he said. "The plan was to turn you back to their side and lure you away from Hogwarts during the next Hogsmeade visit."

"Why didn't they just send a bloody owl if they wanted to talk!" she said crossly.

Tom placed a hand around her waist, his fingers curling slightly. "He wanted to spend time with you," he said tightly. "Like I said, it was about you and not me. I suspected something was amiss with the manticore incident so I have been cautious with things regarding _me_. I didn't think that you were the victim."

"He was _here_ ," she said, waving her hand around the room. "He was watching me, and touching me, and…"

"Which was why I was furious earlier," he said, his voice hardening. "I saw what he saw, Hermione, and what he thought, and what he did."

"What did he do?" Hermione asked, though she was dreading the answer.

"Things that should only be done by me," he said, locking gazes with her, the fury back in his eyes as he pulled her to him with a low growl and crashed his lips into hers.

Hermione shifted so she could straddle him, unmindful as her skirt hitched up her legs when she wrapped them around his torso. She gave as much into the kiss as he did, wanting to drive out everything unpleasant Ron had done. She threaded her fingers through his hair, scraping his scalp lightly with her nails and earning a satisfied rumble from him.

"Make me forget, Tom," she whispered against his lips. "Touch me the way he would never be able to."

He didn't answer except to run his tongue against her bottom lip, seeking entrance into her mouth. She obliged him and opened her mouth to his, further deepening their kiss. She shrugged out of her robes to make her request of him clearer, and he lifted a hand to peel the robe off her shoulder, his fingertips grazing the skin at her neck where her top ended.

She sighed at the lightest of contacts and pressed her body closer to him, wanting more. He understood her, his other hand moving slowly up her thigh, fingers dancing on her skin, until he reached the apex of her thighs and pressed his thumb against her knickers. She moaned at the contact and ground her hips against his hand, demanding more.

He hummed his understanding, and without breaking the kiss, pushed the fabric of her underwear aside so he could run his finger up and down her slit. Hermione pulled at his hair as she broke off from his kiss to catch his earlobe between her lips and sucked it gently. He shuddered at this and bent his neck so he could trail kisses down her throat, alternately biting and licking her skin. He shifted his hand between them to get a better angle and ran circles around her nub with his thumb, sending a delicious thrill from the top of her head down to her toes.

"More," she crooned into his ear, and he slipped a finger inside her, groaning at the wetness he found there. He probed inside her gently, pleased with the little sounds she was making at the back of her throat. He added a second finger, starting a steady pumping rhythm with his hand, which she met with her hips accordingly. He unbuttoned her top with his free hand, pulling her bra down to expose her breasts, and bent down to catch a nipple in his mouth.

Hermione threw her head back as the added sensation of his tongue swirling around her nipple made the rest of the room disappear until she was only aware of him. "Tom," she breathed, arching her back to give him better access to her breast as she felt her pleasure building.

"Yes, come for me, Hermione," he murmured against her skin, his voice soft but full of command, before grazing her nipple with his teeth, his fingers curling inside her to touch her at the right spot and push her over the edge. She came with a soft sigh, her insides quivering around his fingers as he slowed down his ministrations. He gave her clit one final swirl of his thumb, making her jump on his lap, before he withdrew his hand.

"Nobody else will touch you so," he said, marking her neck with his teeth. "You are mine."

"Oh, Tom," she said, out of breath from her orgasm but her mind already slowly piecing itself together after coming undone. "You know I'll only admit I'm yours if you say that you are mine in return."

He smiled, admiring the love bite on her neck before she moved forward to rest her head against the crook of his neck. "You can say what you want," he said, rubbing his hand up and down her back. "Your body already seems to think so anyway."

* * *

Saturday was a Hogsmeade day and Hermione had planned to go to town to look at dresses for the upcoming Yule Ball, but given the events of the previous day, she wanted to hole up in her room instead. She wasn't going to get her way, however. With Ginny out of the picture, McGonagall wanted both Head Boy and Head Girl around for supervision of the other students.

Hermione dragged herself downstairs past the Great Hall, wrapping her scarf around her neck and looking around for Draco. She found Tom instead, talking to a group of sixth year girls from Ravenclaw. She smiled inwardly as she remembered the guilty pleasure she enjoyed with him yesterday, and quelled the urge to chase the girls away, take his arm and tell everyone that he was hers.

Instead, she walked up to him calmly, remembering something Ron had mention previously. "Professor," she said, catching his eye to let him know that she was serious. "May I have a word with you?"

He looked at her and read the concern on her face. "Of course, Miss Granger. Shall we walk to Hogsmeade together?" He offered her his arm, which she took, and they started to walk away, with the girls eyeing Hermione with envy. When they were out of earshot, he chuckled. "Quite convenient for you to forget I was your professor yesterday."

"Well, you did say I could use you sometimes," she said, smiling herself. "But I do have serious business with you right now."

He said nothing, waiting for her to continue, which she did. "Ginny-or Ron, actually, said that Harry is meeting him at Hogsmeade today. I don't know if it's true or if it will push through, given that Ron was already sent away by McGonagall, but we can't ignore the fact that Harry might be present in Hogsmeade."

"I don't have a problem with that," he said evenly.

"I just think it wouldn't be good to have a confrontation with him."

"Well, an easy way to avoid a confrontation is to just avoid the places he would most likely be at," he said easily. "Which shop in Hogsmeade would Harry most likely never set foot in?"

"Madame Pudifoot's-"

"Absolutely not," he said.

She forced a laugh. "Well, I don't think he'd go to the bookshop, or Gladrags."

"I'll accompany you to the bookshop, then I'll drop you off at Gladrags before I join the other teachers at the Three Broomsticks," he said.

"I didn't get to ask yesterday, but what happened to Ron? I only know he was sent away," she said.

"He got off with a stern reprimand from the headmistress," Tom said. "Apparently, sneaking into Hogwarts to see the subject of his infatuation did not merit more severe punishment from the school. However, since he brought in a manticore illegaly, he will be pursued by the Ministry. It might not warrant a stint in Azkaban, but he might pay a fine or be put on probation after a hearing."

They reached Hogsmeade with the first of the students, and as everyone rushed to the Three Broomsticks and Zonko's, Hermione and Tom walked to the bookshop. It was empty save for the shop girl, who looked up from her magazine with a bored expression on her face that changed to one of surprise and apprehension at seeing her first customers for the day.

Tom waved his hand dismissively before the girl could come forward. "Just here to browse," he said.

The girl nodded and sat back down, happy enough to continue reading her magazine.

They spent some time perusing the books in the bookshop, but having the vast library of Hogwarts at their disposal, they did not see anything worth buying. As mid morning approached, Hermione decided to try her luck at dress hunting.

They walked to Gladrags, which was a few blocks away. "Did you go to school dances when you were at Hogwarts?" she asked Tom out of curiosity.

"Only during my sixth and seventh year. Prefect and then Head Boy duties," he said, opening the shop door for her.

Hermione started to sift through the racks absent-mindedly, waiting for a dress that might capture her attention. Tom, instead of leaving for the pub, went down another aisle to take a look himself. After a few minutes, she selected an orange dress that gave a warm hue, and she draped it over her arm to fit it. When she made her way to the dressing room, Tom stepped in her way, holding out three dresses.

"Try these too," he said.

"I thought you were going to the Three Broomsticks," she said.

"I am, but I thought I might help you narrow down your choices first," he said, giving her a mischievous smile. "I'll see you later, Hermione."

Knowing it was useless to protest, she took his selections and went inside the fitting room. She tried on her dress first, slipping the orange material above her head. She zipped herself up and turned to look at her reflection in the mirror.

"It makes me look like I'm from some Halloween themed party," she said to herself, disappointed. The dress had looked lovely on the rack.

She tried on the next two dresses. One was too showy and the other too matronly. The last dress was a royal blue one that was fitted from her bosom to her hips until the skirt fell loosely just above her ankles. She fitted it on herself, turning once to admire the way the back of the dress dipped down gracefully up to the middle of her back. A slow smile started to spread on her face.

 _I like this,_ she thought, turning around once more and watching the fabric swirl gracefully with her movement. She decided to get the dress, and rang the attendant to have it packaged and paid for.

The middle-aged woman smiled at her. "No need for payment," she said. "The gentleman you were with earlier told me to charge it to his account at Gringotts."

Hermione's mouth fell open. "He did?"

"Yes. I must say, that is an excellent choice, young lady. For the Yule Ball?"

Hermione nodded as the shopkeeper handed her package to her. "Thank you," she said, hugging the wrapped dress to her chest and shouldering the door open on her way out.

She was greeted with an unexpected surprise when she ran into Ginny and Harry right outside Gladrags. There was a pregnant pause as she and the pair eyed each other for a few seconds, and when Ginny averted her eyes guiltity, Hermione's temper broke.

"You!" she said, dropping her parcel and stepping forward to clutch Ginny's arm, but Harry stepped in her way to protect the other girl.

"Hermione, it wasn't her fault," Harry said hurriedly, catching Hermione's wrist. "It was Ron, all Ron..."

"And you didn't think to talk some sense into him!" Hermione exploded, stabbing a finger in Harry's chest. The gesture was so reminiscent of the many times she had told her old friends off before, and Harry's face twisted.

"I know, I didn't say I wasn't partly to blame," he said, putting a hand on each of her arms. "Can we talk?"

Hermione shrugged out of his grasp to bend down and pick up her dress. "Of course we can talk," she said forcefully. "Without any of the Polyjuice sham, I must say." She was still irate, but Harry was here and for the first time since summer he wasn't going on a tirade against Voldemort, and here was her chance to smooth things over with him.

"Three Broomsticks?" Harry said tentatively.

Hermione shook her head. Tom was at the Three Broomsticks. "Too public. Shrieking Shack."

"Lead the way," Harry said, sweeping his arm to the general direction of the abandoned house.

"Oh, I'm not turning my back on you," she said, shaking her head. "Not when I know how underhanded you and Ron have become. I'll follow you."

She let Harry and Ginny walk a few paces ahead of her and she followed them until they reached the Shrieking Shack. The couple looked at her hesitantly and she transfigured three old rickety chairs into more comfortable arm chairs.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked them stiffly as she took her seat.

Harry sat down opposite her, running a hand through his messy hair. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely, knowing that a proper apology would mollify her. "When Ron came up to me with the plan, he said he only wanted to talk to you personally."

"I would have agreed to meet him on a Hogsmeade weekend," Hermione said, exasperated. "Why all the drama?"

Harry sighed. "You know Ron's smitten with you. He wanted to meet you in private, and he felt that a Hogsmeade weekend wasn't enough time to convince you."

"To convince me of what?" she asked, having an inkling already of what Harry was going to answer.

"To come back and join us," Harry said. "Have the Golden Trio back together."

Hermione sighed. "I do miss you both. Well, actually not Ron at the moment. But I don't think Ron would have convinced me to go back. Not when you and I believe in different things."

"Hermione, you can't expect Tom Riddle to just be allowed to walk free, don't you?" Harry asked.

"Honestly, I didn't expect him to take on Voldemort's position after killing him," she admitted. "In fact, right after that happened, I left him because I felt that I was mistaken in putting my faith in him. But after a few days, he came to me and asked me to come back. I really considered it, Harry, if he was going to be another despot. He doesn't deny that his methods are severe, but when he says that he does not want further conflict in the wizarding community, I believe him."

"But Hermione, he's _Voldemort_ ," Harry said, his face twisting in anguish.

She shook her head. "No, Harry. He's more," she said. "He's Voldemort, but a larger part of him is Tom Riddle. Yes, Tom Riddle has the potential to turn into Voldemort, and even at a young age he has killed and made a horcrux before he left Hogwarts, but he has methods and is not the psychopath Voldemort was."

"He's evil."

"No, he's not. He has a different opinion on some things and… misguided in others, but he's a brilliant wizard and he is willing to listen if you'd stop attacking him for a second," Hermione said. "You told me, before, that if he admitted it was a mistake going after you when you were a baby, you'd sit down and talk with him. Well, he has. Are you going to do as you said or did you just say that because you thought it was impossible to happen?"

"Did he really admit that?" Harry asked.

She nodded. "He said that acting on that prophecy only set it in motion. Voldemort should have ignored it. What does Kingsley say about all this?"

"He said to wait and see," Harry said. "Because Voldemort made a deal with the Ministry and he was exonerated of all charges while on probation. It's a load of crap, if you ask me."

"Well, even if you think it is, the Ministry has laid down the law," Hermione said. "And Kingsley is smart enough to heed it. At least nobody else has died in the last six months."

Harry ran a hand through his hair again. "Even the Order is stepping back. I don't even know what to do."

"Get on with your life," Hermione said gently. "Merlin knows we've already missed a good part of our teenage years doing things we shouldn't have been doing, and missing out on the ordinary. And Ginny," she added, turning to the younger girl. "Are you going back to Hogwarts?"

"If McGonagall allows me," Ginny said in a small voice. "Hermione, I'm really sorry about Ron. I was furious when he got back yesterday. I wanted to owl you, but Harry said to give Ron a chance to talk to you."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well he wasted it," she said. "Do you know why? He didn't even talk to me about going back. He didn't talk to me about the war, about Voldemort, or Harry or the Order. He only said things like I was missed, and what a good thing it would be to go back to the way things used to be. All the while taking liberties with my person, putting his arm around me, watching me sleep, and I don't know what else. I don't want to think about the other things he might have done, and I don't want to know. It makes my skin crawl."

Ginny looked embarrassed. "I know. I'm really sorry. He- I wasn't speaking to him when I left him."

Hermione rubbed her face with her hands. "I can't blame you, can I? Because he made sure I can't, because you were unaware of everything. If you want to go back to Hogwarts, talk to the headmistress. Harry can walk you to Hogwarts, and wait at the headmistress' office while I tell her your intentions."

"Who else knows what happened?" Ginny asked.

"Me, Draco, Professor Riddle, and Professor McGonagall," Hermione said. "No one will suspect you missed school for a week."

Harry rose from his seat. "I'll walk you to Hogwarts, Gin," he said, offering her his arm. "Hermione, I'll think about what you said. It's a big deal… having him alive and free. I'll wait for Kingsley's word."

Hermione nodded tiredly, standing up as well. "Take care, Harry," she said as the pair started their trek to the school.

Hermione walked to the Three Broomsticks. She had told Ginny to wait for McGonagall at Hogwarts to avoid Harry meeting Tom at the pub. She knew Tom had an abundance of control over himself when he wanted to, but she wasn't sure that Harry would keep himself out of trouble once he caught sight of Tom.

She ran into her Slytherin friends once she entered the pub.

"Hey, Granger," Theo said. "Fancy a butterbeer? I was just going to the bar to get another round."

Hermione nodded, handing Theo a few knuts. "Thanks, Theo. I'm dying for a drink," she said, slipping into the seat beside Daphne. "Done shopping?" she asked the other girl, who had several shopping bags at her feet.

"Yes, I got some sweet things from Honeydukes, and a few accessories for my dress for the Yule ball," she answered, accepting the butterbeer Theo came back with. "I presume you'll be going with Draco?"

"I suppose, since the Heads and the prefects always lead the first dance," she said.

Theo sniggered. "I'm sure Draco's not looking forward to it, dancing with you under the professor's watchful eye."

"Shut up, Theo," Hermione said. "Draco is already feeling skittish about it."

"I can't really blame him," Theo said, still grinning.

"Stop it, Theo," Hermione said.

"I'm looking forward to seeing his face at the ball," Theo said. He finished his butterbeer with one full swig. "I'm going to meet up with Draco before we head back to Hogwarts. Draco wants to pick up this new broom. Want to come along?"

"And watch you two ogle at a couple of brooms? No thank you," Daphne said, tilting her nose up in the air. "I'm ready to go back to Hogwarts."

"I'll stay until the rest of the students walk back. I'm on chaperone duty anyway," Hermione said, finishing her butterbeer as well. She stood up with Daphne, looking across the pub at Tom, who was still engaged with the other teachers in a conversation. She might as well warn McGonagall about Ginny waiting for her.

She approached the table of the professors. "Headmistress?" she said, stopping by the older witch's chair. "I ran into Ginny Weasley outside. She's waiting for you at Hogwarts. She said she wants to talk with you."

McGonagall looked surprised. "Miss Weasley? Well, I suppose I know what's on her mind. I'd better get going back to school," she said, standing up and reaching for her bag.

"I'll go with you, Minerva," Slughorn said, downing the rest of his drink and rising as well.

Tom leaned back in his seat. "I'll wait until the last of the students have gone," he said. "Join me, Miss Granger?"

Hermione nodded, sliding into the seat Slughorn had just vacated. As soon as the two teachers had gone, she turned to Tom, smiling. "Thank you for the dress."

"Take it as payment for all the things you've bought me when I didn't have a sickle to my name," he said easily. "So you ran into Miss Weasley? Have you been talking to her for the past two hours since I last saw you?"

She sighed, answering his unspoken question. "Yes, I ran into Harry. We talked in the Shrieking Shack. He apologized for what Ron did. He said he allowed it thinking that Ron was going to convince me to come back with them to the Order, but Ron made it a personal visit instead."

"Don't remind me," Tom said, his mouth set in a hard line.

"Well, I don't like being reminded too," she said a little crossly. "Anyway, Harry said that Kingsley is just waiting to see how things turn out. A few more months of peace and you might actually have the Order off your back, provided you don't provoke them."

"I don't intend to," he said, relaxing a little bit as he surveyed the pub, which was slowly emptying of students. "Potter didn't threaten you while you were with him?"

"No, he's simmered down, not one single outburst, even," she said. She might as well be thankful for small things.

He nodded. "That's fine, then. Shall we start going back to Hogwarts?"

"Yes," she said, pushing her chair back to stand. "I'll round up the rest of the students."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

"Hermione, I'm really sorry about Ron," Ginny said.

They were back in the common room that evening. McGonagall had accepted Ginny back into Hogwarts as she herself had violated no rules, which Hermione found to be unfair considering that technically speaking she had been the victim of a break-in. Draco had joined them for a mug of hot chocolate after a chilly day in Hogsmeade. Scott was holed up in their room with his girlfriend, so Draco had gallantly volunteered to give way and allow them some privacy after giving strict orders to leave his bed alone.

"Don't mention it again," Hermione said sharply. "Ever."

"Ron and Harry are just really anxious to get you back," she said.

"I already told Harry that I currently see no way of that happening," she said, cupping her hot chocolate in her hands and allowing it to warm her heart. She understood Ginny, but it would take a while for her to warm up to her friend again.

"We both know that Harry will most likely continue to fight," Ginny said, sighing.

"Ginny, what is Harry fighting for?" Draco asked seriously.

"For the greater good," Ginny said.

"Define greater good," Draco said.

"He wants to rid the world of Voldemort," Ginny confessed.

"You do realize how it's going to look like if your boyfriend does that, don't you?" Draco said mildly. "The students love him, he's a good addition to the Hogwarts staff as he's gotten even Neville Longbottom stringing four curses at dueling club without exploding half of the castle, and he's stopped all aggression against muggleborns and muggles alike. He's changing policies, and Potter needs to change with him. The whole killing Voldemort thing is getting as old as a whole antique shop."

"That's easy for you to say, you've never been persecuted by him," Ginny said.

"No, but Granger has," Draco said, nodding to Hermione who had remained silent during their exchange. "Well, I'll leave you two to it. It's time for my rounds, anyway." He finished his drink and retrieved his cloak before exiting their dormitory.

There was a few minutes of silence as both girls awkwardly sipped their hot chocolate. Finally, Hermione spoke. "I'm not mad at you, Gin," she said, setting her mug down. "But when I see you, I remember Ron being here, pretending to be you, and it's not a good feeling. Give me time."

"I understand, Hermione," Ginny said sadly. "I guess we were wrong to think we can ever have a normal school year at Hogwarts."

* * *

"Fancy running into you here. I don't recall signing a permission slip for you."

Hermione turned around to see Tom walking along the aisle towards her. They were in the Restricted Section of the library, where she was hoping to find some text for a particularly unfamiliar Defense assignment. "Head Girl privileges," she reminded him. "I'm sure you took advantage of it too during your time."

"Ah, yes," he said, glancing at the book in her hand. "It's not in that book."

"I know, but I can't seem to find what I'm looking for," Hermione said.

He nodded thoughtfully, scanning the volumes in front of them. "I signed a slip for two Ravenclaw students yesterday. They must have beaten you to it."

"I thought with everyone else occupied about the Yule Ball, I wouldn't have much competition for the books but I forgot you're such a hard task master that other students won't relax about it," she said, sighing.

"I have a copy in my office, we'll go and get it. Just…" He held up one finger as he perused the books before selecting one. "A little light reading for me."

They walked to his office together, which was located just beside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Tom held the door open for her and Hermione walked in. She had been in his office several times before just for small talk, when they both had idle time, and she took a seat on one of the arm chairs in front of his desk while he went to his bookshelf to look for the volume she needed.

"Here you go," he said, hanging her a thick tome. "Is everything fine with the Weasley girl?"

"It's been a month," Hermione said, shrugging. "Things are lukewarm at best."

"How was your day?" he asked.

She chuckled. "Been seeing all the boys running around trying to snag a date for the Yule Ball. Reminded me how it was the last time."

"You went with that Bulgarian student, didn't you?"

"Yes, Krum. I actually exchanged a few letters with him after that but lost contact during what was supposed to be my seventh year at Hogwarts," she said.

"Boyfriend?"

"Not really," she said, frowning. "The term boyfriend doesn't sit well with me. It just… after sixth year, all the love potion craze and all those people hooking up, the term somehow seems a bit shallow to me. Fleeting. Or maybe I just skipped that stage in growing up. Like I went from being a child to an adult without going through my teenage years."

"I know what you mean," he said. "Have you got a date for the Yule Ball this time, though?"

"Sort of. Draco didn't want to ask another girl, and he knows I'm not going with anyone either, so we decided to come together since we will be leading the first dance anyway."

"Save a dance for me," he said.

"If you dance with me you'll have to dance with the other female students, too," she teased him.

"It's nothing I can't handle," he said easily, leaning back against his desk and crossing his arms. "The question is, can you?"

"Excuse me?" she said, her breath catching as he turned the tables on her so suddenly. When would she ever learn not to engage him in verbal spats?

She knew he was trying his best not to look smug, but she caught him anyway. "Don't think that I don't notice you watching me every time other female students talk to me outside of class," he said.

"Just being curious," she murmured, averting her eyes when she felt her cheeks heat up.

"I don't think so," he said, moving to sit in the other armchair and pulling it over so their knees were almost touching.

She raised her eyes to meet his, and he was serious now. "I admit, it makes me uncomfortable," she said after a while. "I know there's no reason for me to feel that way, but…" Her voice trailed off.

He seemed to think about this as watched her. "We both have a tendency to over analyze things sometimes, Hermione, but I think in this case it's really quite simple."

She said nothing, but looked at him, pleading with him to let her off the hook this time.

There was a knock on the door before he could answer, and in a flash he was on his feet, on the other side of the desk. "Enter," he said.

It was Eleanor Hogett, the Gryffindor prefect. "Professor Riddle, I… oh, Hermione!"

"She's just consulting," Tom said. "Is there anything I can help you with, Miss Hogett?"

"Oh, Professor, I just wanted to drop off a little present for you. For Christmas," she said, hopping forward to place a box of sweets on his desk.

"Why, thank you, Eleanor," Tom said, giving her one of his more charming smiles. "Merry Christmas to you, too."

"You're welcome," the younger girl said before turning around and leaving Hermione looking after her in surprise.

The moment the door closed after her, Tom waved his hand and Hermione felt his wards slide into place, effectively locking the rest of Hogwarts out of his office. "How sweet of her," he said, glancing at the gift on his table.

Hermione sighed. "It bothers me," she said, standing up and starting to pace back and forth slowly, gathering her courage to admit to him that she liked him.

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly. "None of them mean anything to me, Hermione, so you need not be bothered about it. I'm no philanderer, and I believe in exclusivity. That means when I kiss you, I want to kiss only you. I want to touch only you, and frankly, you're the only one I like touching me."

"It's the same with me," she said as she let him pull her against his body.

"It better be," he warned before closing in on her.

His kiss was firm but gentle, and she melted into him as she digested what he had just said. He was right, as usual. It really was quite simple for the two of them to like each other, though he would probably never say the words outright. He ended the kiss, placing a finger under her chin so he could tip her face up. "Then I suppose this means you've got yourself a boyfriend," he teased, a ghost of a smile on his face.

She groaned at this, resting her head against his chest briefly. "You had to say it," she muttered.

He was smiling fully now as he released her. "One of us has to," he said. "Now go, before another student comes in here and involves us in a scandal."

She hit his arm playfully as she picked up the book that had trapped her in his office that afternoon. "Thank you for the book," she said as he unlocked the door for her.

"You're welcome," he said. "And, Hermione?"

"Yes?" she asked just before she opened the door.

"I like you, too."

* * *

The night of the Yule Ball arrived, and the Great Hall was transformed into a ballroom with a winter wonderland theme. Silver Christmas trees lined either side of the long hall, and tiny snowflakes fell from the ceiling, disappearing moments before they hit the floor.

Hermione and Draco led the first dance. She secretly smiled as he held her carefully, his hand on her bare back, mindful that it did not stray too low. "It's just a dance, Draco," she whispered to him. "He's not going to hold it against you."

"Still wouldn't hurt to be careful," he muttered, holding her arm up high as he spun her in his arms. "You clean up nice, Granger. I hope the other blokes you dance with tonight don't ogle you too much lest they get a killing curse thrown their way."

"You speak such nonsense sometimes," she said, laughing.

They ended the dance just as the other couples came onto the dance floor. Draco released her hand, and turned to Ginny to ask for a dance out of courtesy. Hermione quickly drifted away to the cocktails table before Scott, who was Ginny's partner, got the idea into his head to ask her for a dance. She quickly picked up a flute of champagne and raised it to her lips, watching as the other students mingled.

It wasn't long before Tom found his way to her side. "Miss Granger," he said, drawing close to her. "That dress does become you."

She matched his smile. "You look equally good tonight, Professor. I presume your dance card is full?"

"It is," he said, his voice sounding weary. "It's not easy being everyone's favorite teacher."

She laughed. "That is your own doing, I think."

He relieved her of her champagne flute to set it down on a tray floating by them and took her hand. "May I have this next dance?"

She nodded, feeling light-hearted as he led her to the dance floor and put an arm to her waist. He twirled her around the dance floor, stepping sedately through the waltz. Hermione could feel the eyes of several people on them, and she couldn't help but blush at the attention. "You dance very well," she said.

"There's really not much that I don't do well," he said, matching her smile.

"I can name one," she said.

"Enlighten me."

"Feelings," she said, giving him a triumphant look.

He pretended to think about it. "Hm. I don't know about that. I can do anger, hate, and rage quite well so I disagree with you on that." He leaned closer to whisper in her ear. "And for the record, I was the first to say that I like you."

She laughed, relishing the feel of his hand on her waist, his thumb rubbing small round circles on top of the satin of her dress. "Must I always lose my verbal battles with you?"

"Yes. Perhaps it would be a good idea for you to stop talking sometimes," he said, equally amused.

The stopped speaking, enjoying the rest of the dance with each other. As the strains of the last note ended, he leaned towards her. "Can I have a private moment with you?"

She looked up at him and nodded. He led her off the dance floor, discreetly slipping out of the Great Hall so they could walk in the garden together. There was a light blanket of snow, and he cast a warming charm on both of them. As soon as they rounded the corner of the castle and were out of sight of the main doors, he pulled her to him and kissed her thoroughly. His hands remained at her back, pulling her close to him, careful not to ruin her hair, which was pulled up in a loose bun.

"You look so enticing in that dress I can't last another minute in there without giving you a kiss," he confessed.

She yielded to him easily, her body molding into his. "You look very delicious yourself," she breathed. "I look forward to spending more time with you during Christmas holidays."

He closed his eyes as she ran her hands up his arms to rest her palms on his shoulders. "We'd better go back before we are missed. Try not to dance too much with the other boys."

She chuckled. "I promise," she assured him.

They returned to the Great Hall, their brief absence unnoticed by anyone since a new band had come on the stage with another set, and the dance floor was more crowded than ever. Tom excused himself from her as a bold female student asked him for a dance. Hermione relinquished her hold on him as he gave her a wink. "I will see you later, Miss Granger," he said before he walked away.

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. It seemed that, at least for the students, the past three months had skyrocketed Tom's popularity. Though students still trembled in his class, it was due to his demanding work and exercises, and no longer because he was considered an evil wizard. Outside the classroom, his courteous but aloof demeanor only intensified the students' natural curiosity, and many of them looked for excuses to have some sort of encounter with the famous dark wizard if only for bragging rights. No doubt securing at least one dance with him at the Yule Ball was one thing most girls sought.

She was joined by Draco and Ginny, who had just come off the dance floor. "Granger," the blond said. "Why are you being a wall flower? Come dance with me."

Hermione smiled at him cheekily. "I already had one dance with you Draco. I think I'll sit this one out." She stood beside Ginny, giving her a smile that was warmer than of late.

"I think that's the first time a Malfoy invitation for a dance has been turned down," Ginny said, laughing, tentatively poking Hermione's arm.

Hermione patted Draco's arm. "It's all right, Draco. You did warn me not to dance too much with other boys."

The three of them stood by and watched as others danced through several more songs, and Hermione was just thinking about getting herself another drink when the song switched to a slow number. She saw Ginny's eyes widen as someone stepped up to them.

"I believe this dance should be mine," Tom said, touching Hermione's elbow.

"It's a slow dance," she hissed at him.

"I know, and if you don't dance with me, another girl is going to come up and I don't want to refuse her without looking like a prude," he whispered back. "I do have a reputation to maintain."

Hermione heard Draco choke back a laugh beside her, and to save him from embarrassment in front of Tom, she allowed herself to be pulled away. Tom was smug as he pulled Hermione to him, wrapping his arms around her waist in a gentlemanly fashion. "You looked flushed," he said softly, his eyes taking in Hermione's state.

"I think someone spiked the pumpkin juice, and I don't think you've ever held me this close in public before," she whispered, feeling the heat on her cheeks. "I can feel the other people watching us."

"It's just a dance, Hermione," he murmured. "Relax. Are you having a nice night so far?"

"Yes," she answered, finding that she did not feel as self-conscious if they talked through the dance. "It's not often that I get to just... enjoy myself. I do like dancing, but never had much of an opportunity to do it. How about you? Nice night?"

"Hm, I suppose, but I'm really not one for socializing," he said. "Maybe after this dance, we could…" He broke off suddenly, and his eyes snapped to alertness.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, feeling his magic stir.

"Something has happened to the Death Eaters. I've been alerted through the mark," he said in a low voice. "I need to talk to Rabastan."

"I saw him last by the dessert table," she said, a worried frown creasing her forehead.

He frowned and looked at her as they stopped moving to the music. "I..." His voice trailed off.

She looked at him closely, and understood his hesitation. "I know you don't want me to see you in the role of Lord Voldemort, but I'm telling you, it's all right. I've seen him at his worst."

"Fine, let's go," he muttered. He led her away from the dance floor for the second time that night, but this time it was not to go to some secret tryst. He looked around and saw Draco by the doors of the Great Hall. "Draco, follow me," he called tersely.

Draco snapped to attention, immediately setting down the glass of firewhiskey someone had illegally brought in and hurrying after them. Tom didn't talk until they had reached his office. "Floo call your manor," he instructed Draco, handing him a pouch of Floo powder. "I've been alerted through the mark. See what the problem is." Rolling up his sleeve, he touched his dark mark, muttering Rabastan's name.

Draco went to the fireplace and threw some Floo powder in. "Malfoy Manor," he said clearly, and waited for a few seconds. No one came.

"I thought so. He is supposed to be out tonight. Try the Greengrass home," Tom said tightly.

Draco called for the Greengrass' residence next, but instead of an empty green fire in the Floo, there was nothing at all. Tom's eyebrows were almost knitted together now. "Get me MacNair."

Draco was getting paler by the second as he was unable to reach one Death Eater after another. He threw another handful of Floo powder into the fireplace until Walden MacNair's head appeared, and Draco sighed in relief.

"MacNair," Tom said.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Go to the Greengrass estate and see what has happened there. Take a few Snatchers with you. Report to me at Malfoy Manor after you have ascertained the situation." Tom dismissed him abruptly and turned to his door. "Where in the world is Rabastan?"

The door to his office flew open and Rabastan strode in, clearly agitated. "My lord, my brother has been in touch with me. The Greengrass estate has been attacked by the Order! We have lost both the Greengrasses, and Lucius was severely injured and needed to be brought to St. Mungo's."

Tom let out his breath in a hiss. "What incited the attack?" he asked.

Rabastan shook her head. "It was unprovoked, my lord. Lucius was there to meet with Aramis Greengrass on a social call when the place was attacked. The entire estate was destroyed by Fiendfyre, and Lucius managed to fight off a few of the Order before my brother and Rookwood were able to apparate to him, but he was too injured by then so all they could do was to take him away from there. Rodolphus went back to the estate to give chase to the Order members as soon as Lucius was deposited at St. Mungo's. I'm still waiting for him to return."

Tom frowned. "Are you certain about Aramis and Selena Greengrass?"

"Both dead, my lord."

Hermione took in a breath. Daphne had lost both her parents in an unprovoked attack by the Order. This was the type of thing that escalated wars. She dreaded what Tom would do, but she could not blame him. To attack so close to the holidays...

"Make sure the Ministry knows of this," Tom told him. "The Order has just committed a crime and they will be persecuted accordingly. Go now."

He turned to Draco, who was shocked speechless with worry for his father. "Draco, take your father out of St. Mungo's and bring him back to the manor. I don't trust his security in St. Mungo's. Take their best healer, offer him pay for his services if he were to accompany Lucius and continue to care for him at the manor. I don't care who you bribe or Imperius to do it, but get it done. Hogwarts will be closing for the holidays tomorrow. Prepare a room at the manor for the two Greengrass daughters, they will be staying there until further notice."

Draco nodded as he scrambled to his feet. "Yes, my lord," he said, edging towards the door.

"Have Theo Nott help you," Tom ordered to his retreating back.

Left alone with him, Hermione felt a cold knot in her stomach as she felt the anger Tom was trying to suppress in front of her. "The Order attacked us, unprovoked," he said, his voice low but harsh. "Hermione, ever since you left the Order and I became Voldemort, I have refrained from asking you information on the Order out of respect for you, knowing you do not want to speak against your former friends. But they have crossed a line this time. Even you can see that." He turned away from her and looked out his window, contemplating.

"What do you need?" she asked him, horrified that the Order had taken such a drastic step.

"I need to know who else is left active in the Order, who can arrange these foolish attacks."

Hermione bit her lip. She had been walking the fine line between Tom and the Order, but she had always known she would have to take a side one day. She bowed her head and squeezed her eyes shut, but the tears fell down her cheeks anyway. Tom turned around to see her state, and he crossed the room to sit at his desk. He would not offer her comfort, for he wanted her to make the decision by herself.

"If you choose to protect the Order..." His voice trailed off again. "You will still be safe from me. But your friends have drawn their lot. Think on it carefully while I talk with McGonagall. Then we will talk about it tomorrow at the manor."

He strode out of his office with purpose, and she followed after him, colliding with his back as he stopped short a few steps from his office door. She looked around him to see Ginny Weasley at the other end of the hall.

"Hermione? Are you all right?" Ginny asked concernedly. "I saw you leave the party and…"

In a flash, Tom's wand was in his hand and was pointed towards the youngest Weasley. Ginny froze, and Hermione gasped as she stepped around Tom. "Tom, stop, please," she said desperately, keeping a hand on his wand arm.

"Out of my way, Hermione," he said grimly. "Someone is going to pay for this."

"I know, but not Ginny, she has been here at Hogwarts the whole time, so she has nothing to do with it," Hermione said, feeling Tom's magic coiling in his core as he prepared to unleash a curse. "Please, I beg you. She's a student, you're a teacher. Hogwarts should be neutral ground," she said.

Tom hesitated, and Hermione placed her other hand on his chest, willing him to calm down. "If you do this, you will undo everything you have worked for to get here," she reasoned out. "I don't want to see you destroyed."

After a few heart stopping seconds, Tom tore his eyes away from Ginny to look down at Hermione, who was still clutching at his robes. He took a deep breath as he withdrew his wand, slipping it into his sleeve. "Count yourself lucky, Miss Weasley, and get out of my sight," he bit out. "I will not be so forgiving next time."

Hermione exhaled a sigh of relief as Ginny quickly disappeared around the corner without another word. She rested her head against Tom's chest as she slid her hands down to entwine her fingers with his. She knew, in that moment, that she was invested enough in him to not want to see his efforts wasted. "Thank you," she breathed. "It's true, I don't want to see you fall. I will help you, Tom, in whatever way I can."

This seemed to mollify him further as he bent his head to press a kiss to her lips, teacher-student relations be damned, letting her feel his frustration. "I need to speak with McGonagall," he said roughly after a while, breaking off the kiss. "And you need to come with me."

"Me?" she repeated, releasing his hands as they started to walk back towards the Great Hall.

"Apparently, you have the capacity of staying my wand," he said. "It would be in everyone's best interest that your precious Headmistress remains unhurt, as much as I want to raze her and the rest of the Order to the ground."

The ball had already winded down, and most of the students left were the older couples, taking advantage of the abolished curfew for the night and sitting with their respective partners. Tom located McGonagall, and he caught the headmistress' attention.

"Minerva, your office," he said curtly.

McGonagall looked confused, but she led the way out of the Great Hall in order to avoid a public confrontation in front of the students. McGonagall led them to her office, and Hermione was already limping from all the dancing and walking she had been doing in her high-heeled shoes. Tom looked down at her and correctly guessed what was bothering her. He waved a hand at her feet and transfigured her shoes into a more comfortable pair of flats.

"Thank you," she muttered to him.

He nodded once, still in a bad temper. He held the door open for her after McGonagall went through it, and Hermione settled herself on a seat while Tom and the Headmistress faced each other.

"What is this about, Tom?" McGonagall asked.

"Lord Voldemort," he corrected her.

"I am not a member of your Death Eaters, and you are not my master," the older woman said stiffly. "And does Miss Granger need to be present for this? She is a student, and should not be privy to affairs concerning her teachers."

"I thought it best that a student be present, lest I am unable to restrain myself," he said cuttingly. "Your Order attacked the Greeengrass estate, even when the Ministry has already cleared them of any wrongdoings. What have you to say to that, Minerva? Is Kingsley Shacklebolt becoming so unhinged that he would risk doing something to incite another war even as we are just barely extinguishing the flames of the current one?"

McGonagall held up a tired hand. "I only got the details because I have to inform the Greengrass girls about their parents."

"Your Order is still fighting, even when I have already stopped," he hissed. "The Death Eaters will demand retribution for this!"

"I am waiting for news from Kingsley. As far as I know, the Order wasn't planning anything like this," McGonagall said, her state of distress a sign that she was just as surprised as he was.

"Floo Kingsley here. I want this sorted now," Tom said, taking his seat beside Hermione. "Perhaps face to face we can sort this out without having to deal with that Potter boy's temper."

McGonagall did not look pleased being ordered around by Tom. "You're in quite a temper yourself, Professor Riddle."

Tom narrowed his eyes. "Trust me, if I'm in a temper, my wand will be the one doing the talking. So get Kingsley now, while I am still talking with my mouth." He gestured towards the fireplace expectantly.

McGonagall turned to her fireplace to Floo Kingsley, and Hermione took the opportunity to study Tom. He held himself in a relaxed position, yet she could tell by the set of his jaw that he was prepared for anything. In less than a minute, Kingsley Flooed into McGonagall's office, rising from the fireplace dusting his robes.

He looked did not look surprised to see Tom and Hermione waiting for him. "Hermione," was the first thing he said, but Tom cut him off.

"Kingsley, we should discuss the latest gaffe by your Order," he said, his even tone belying his anger.

Kingsley looked at Tom, then at McGonagall, before turning back to the dark wizard. "It was not a planned attack by the Order," he finally said.

"Explain," Tom said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Kingsley took a chair for himself, and Hermione thought he looked a lot older than when she had last seen him. "The Order has stopped its activities after we learned that you had been taken in as a Hogwarts professor. We turned our activities towards watching over the remaining Death Eaters, waiting for one of them to make the wrong move before we came in and apprehended them. If Order members attacked the Greegrass estate when Lucius Malfoy was there, they must have seen something suspicious."

"It was a social call," Tom said. "Since I have reached a settlement with the Ministry, I forbade my Death Eaters to associate with each other during their year-long probation lest they be misinterpreted as sowing misdeeds. However, Lucius asked for my permission to visit the Greengrass estate tonight. Lucius went to see Aramis Greegrass to proposition him about his second daughter being betrothed to Draco Malfoy as soon as she comes of age. It was a match that Lucius had discussed with me before I started the term at Hogwarts, in an attempt to keep Draco from marrying the Parkinson girl."

Hermione's eyes widened. Daphne's parents were killed just because the Order had seen Lucius Malfoy visit them? "Who was in that group that attacked the Greengrass estate?" Hermione asked, unable to keep out of the conversation any longer.

"I'm not sure," Kingsley said. "But it was not something that was run through me."

"I will have it reported to the Ministry, and I will employ my men to hunt these perpetrators," Tom said. "I expect to be left alone when I leave you alone, Kingsley. If you cannot control your members, they will only be a liability to you and to the wizarding community in general. Selena Greengrass was not even a Death Eater, and you have orphaned two students."

Kingsley could not argue with that. "If the Ministry finds them, then they will stand trial," he agreed.

"Then you'd better be sure that the Ministry finds them first, because I do not do trials," Tom warned him.

Kingsley had no answer to this, so he turned to Hermione. "Hermione, have you been all right all this time?"

Hermione nodded, the betrayal of the Order sill stinging in her heart. Tom reached over to put a hand on Hermione's shoulder, showing Kingsley his claim. "Hermione is under my care," he said. "You no longer have to concern yourself with her."

"You are aware of her heritage?" Kingsley asked Tom in surprise.

"It never mattered to me," he said clearly. "She will be my liaison to you, coordinating the details of this incident and any further needs of communication between you and myself. If any harm comes to her while in the performance of this role, I will hold you responsible."

"I will contact you, Hermione, regarding the progress of my investigation," Kingsley said wearily.

Hermione nodded mutely as Kingsley hurriedly left the office.

"Minerva," Tom said, more relaxed now that the Order was dealt with. "When you speak with the Greengrass girls, tell them that they will be staying at Malfoy manor for the meantime. The younger sister is not of legal age yet, and if her godparents are not found, I will be her legal guardian until she comes of age."

He stood up. "I will be away from Hogwarts until the start of the term next year. I have also sent Draco home ahead to attend to his father, who is critically ill, and Theo Nott to help him." He turned to Hermione, dropping all pretenses of unfamiliarity in front of the Headmistress. "Do you want to come with me tonight or do you want to go on the train tomorrow?"

She already knew her answer. "I'll come with you."

"Pack your things. I will collect you at your dorm in an hour," he said.

Hermione stood to go, but McGonagall stopped her. "Miss Granger, a word?"

Tom was already at the door. "Hermione, one hour."

Hermione was left alone with McGonagall, who examined her through her spectacles. "Miss Granger. Hermione... it's not fair, for you to be in the middle of all this."

Hermione sighed. "It's my choice, Professor," she said. "You know me, and Harry and Ron. We will never be used to just sitting at the sidelines. We have to be there in the middle of it all, doing our best to do what we think is right. Gryffindor to the core, remember? It's just that this time, I believe that my place is with Tom Riddle, and that is where I can effect the most influence. And in this instance, I know that the Order is in the wrong, because I was with the other side before Hogwarts opened, and it's true that the Death Eaters have stepped back. I was there when he told them to stand down, and they follow him."

McGonagall slid down her seat. "What is our world coming to?" she murmured.

Hermione sympathized with her. "It's changing, Professor," she said quietly. "And we should be able to change with it. After all, not all changes are necessarily bad."

McGonagall met her eyes. "Can you please locate Daphne and Astoria Greengrass and send them to me? I need to tell them the news. You may go after that."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Hermione carefully added the crushed beetle wings to the potion in the cauldron. It was for a burn salve for Lucius Malfoy. Draco had just come home with his father, who was unconscious after having suffered large amounts of burns all over his body. He was in critical condition and the Healer had done everything he could but cannot commit to whether the Malfoy patriarch would recover. He had lost a considerable amount of his skin and it would take weeks to regrow them. Since it was Fiendfyre, its damage was too severe and Lucius might have to carry some permanent scarring even after many years. Draco was upset, and Hermione offered to make the burn salve to allow him time to spend with his father.

Tom had met with MacNair as soon as they had arrived at the manor, then they had gone to the Greengrass Estate because he wanted to have a look at the damage done himself.

Her potion-making was interrupted by Draco knocking on the door of the room the Malfoys used as their potions room. "Have a minute, Granger?" he asked.

"Sure, I'm done here, this just needs to cool," Hermione said, setting down her wand. "I thought you were spending time with your dad?"

Draco shrugged. "The dark lord is back. He's not satisfied with the rate of my father's healing, and he said he can teach me how to do the blood magic ritual that he used on you to heal you last summer."

Hermione wiped her hands on the jeans she had changed into once she had arrived at the manor. "It's powerful magic. It should work," she assured him. "Anything you need help with?"

He hesitated. "Can you meet Daphne and Astoria? I don't know how long I will be busy with my dad and I know the girls will be arriving soon. I also feel like I'm not in the proper state to welcome them and see to their comfort."

Hermione nodded. "No problem. But do you think they will be upset if they see me? Seeing as… seeing as it was the Order that did it."

Draco waved his hand. "Daphne knows you had nothing to do with it, and would even have stopped it if you had the chance. I had a room prepared for them at the east wing, the door nearest the top of the stairs. It should be ready for them now. And, uh, if you need help with stuff you can ask my personal house elf Lachy."

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I can manage," she told him. "Go tend to your dad."

He nodded, walking with her to the foyer, then leading her to the sitting room where the Greegrass sisters were expected to floo in. Draco called for his house elf to have some tea and biscuits at the ready, then he left Hermione. The Yule Ball seemed so long ago now.

She waited in the sitting room for several minutes until the fireplace chimed and a green light flared up to signify that someone was coming. The fireplace was temporarily connected to the one in McGonagall's office just for that night, to facilitate the arrival of Daphne and Astoria. There was a faint whoosh, and the two sisters came stumbling out, holding on to each other.

Daphne's eyes were puffy, evidence that she had been crying heavily, but they were dry and her mouth was set firmly, trying to be strong for her sister who was three years younger than her. Astoria' face was more open, her eyes still moist and her lower lip quivering as if she was trying to stifle a sob.

"Daphne, Astoria," Hermione said, walking towards them with her hands outstretched in welcome, the right amount of sympathy in her voice. "Draco is busy helping his dad, but he did ask me to help you settle in. I know you're probably sick of hearing it, but I'm truly sorry for what happened. Is there anything I can do for you right now?"

Daphne nodded. "Thanks, Hermione. Um... I don't think we need anything. Do you, Astoria?"

Astoria bit her lip. "If it's not too much, a glass of warm milk to take to bed? It always helps me sleep."

"Of course, I'll have a house elf bring it up. Are you heading straight for bed or would you prefer to have it a little later?" Hermione asked.

Astoria tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She was still in her Yule Ball dress. "Maybe in an hour? Is there a bath I can use?"

"Draco said your room has an en suite," Hermione told her, leading the girls up the stairs and into their room. "I'll ask the house elf to draw the bath for you."

"No, that's not necessary, I'll do it myself," she said, managing a small smile. "Thank you, though."

"I'm sure that Draco will want you to treat this as your own home, but I need to warn you that the West Wing is where the dark lord stays and everyone usually just steers clear of the place. That's where he has his room and his study." Hermione paused at this. Her room was right next to Tom's. "Draco's personal house elf is Lachy. Call on him if you need anything."

Astoria went straight in as Daphne lingered at the door. "Astoria and I will most likely just stay in our room until tomorrow morning, we're both exhausted."

Hermione nodded. "Breakfast is served at eight in the dining room, but if you miss it, you can go to the kitchen and have the house elves fix you something."

Daphne paused. "Will the dark lord be expecting us at breakfast?"

Hermione shook his head. "No, he usually has his breakfast taken to him in his sitting room. He likes to start his day quiet when he's here."

"Well, see you tomorrow. Good night," she said before closing the door.

Hermione was left standing in the empty hallway. She sighed, rubbing her arms. _One would think that after the second wizarding war, I would be better at dealing with grief and bereavement, but it never gets easy,_ she thought, crossing the landing to head to her room.

"Hermione."

She turned around. It was Tom, coming from the direction of Lucius' room. "Ritual done?" she asked.

He nodded wearily, stopping in front of his room and indicating that she follow him. "Lucius will recover," he said as he closed the door behind them.

"You take his rate of recovery seriously," she noted.

"Lucius is very well-connected in the wizarding community, and it's easy for me to regulate him because of his concern for Draco. He's useful to me alive," he said simply.

Hermione dropped onto the settee in his study. "What a horrible night," she murmured. "Is the Healer still here?"

"Yes, he said he will monitor Lucius' condition overnight, if he remains stable."

"Did he say anything about that blood magic you just did with Draco?"

"St. Mungo's doesn't do blood magic for healing purposes, it's considered dark, but this healer can be counted on to be discreet," he said confidently, sitting down beside her. "If anything, I think he was curious as to the healing power of the blood bond."

"Daphne and Astoria are here, they retired to their room as soon as they arrived."

He nodded. "Their house was completely destroyed. I thought I could gather some information going there, but there was nothing for me to go on with. I arrived too late, and what magical signature that could have been left by the attackers had already dissipated by then. We did, however, manage to capture one of the attackers who was foolish enough to linger to see his handiwork."

She held her breath, and he looked sideways at her. "No need to worry, it's nobody you know," he assured her. "MacNair knocked him out and he's in the dungeons. I'm waiting for him to wake up."

"What are you planning to do with him?"

"Let's not talk about that," he said, reaching out and slipping a hand behind her neck. He pulled her forward and pressed his lips to hers, coaxing her to return his kiss.

She complied, allowing him a temporary diversion to everything that had and was about to happen. She opened her mouth under his, losing herself in him as he deepened the kiss, pulling her onto his lap. She cradled his head with her hands, curling her fingers in his black hair as she pressed her body closer to his. He hummed in satisfaction, leaning back into the settee so that she was almost on top of him.

 _I want him_ , Hermione thought as she felt heat pooling in her abdomen. _Merlin, he's a dark lord with a broken soul who is about to torture someone in the dungeons but I do want him._ She wished he would take it further, like what they did in her dorm last month, and was wondering what he would think if she made the first move when they were interrupted by a knock on his door.

Tom broke off the kiss as he swore under his breath in Parseltongue. He gently extricated himself from Hermione's arms and stood up, smoothing down his robes. He quickly checked to see if Hermione was in a presentable state before releasing the door from his wards. "Enter," he said.

It was Walden MacNair. "My lord," he said, giving a quick bow. "The prisoner is awake. Should I…"

"No, I'll do it myself," Tom said, giving MacNair a dismissive wave of his hand.

MacNair left them, and Tom quickly bent down to give Hermione a brief kiss. "Get yourself to bed," he said. "My evening is far from over."

He left her, the weariness in his person when he came in earlier replaced by a vibrant crackling of his magic. Hermione had denied him the opportunity to take out his anger on Ginny Weasley, for valid reasons. He was only too happy that here was another chance to release all the fury he had been holding back since then.

Hermione watched him go with a quiet sigh. She had already interfered with him earlier this evening with Ginny, and she doubted if he would let her do it a second time. She realized that she was not even that keen on stopping him this time… it was reckless of the Order not to heed the status quo, and she hoped that they would learn from this, though it would be at the expense of one person. _When have I started to dismiss one person's life so nonchalantly?_

She put her feet up, sitting sideways on the settee so she could rest her head on its back, not having the energy to even go to her own room.

* * *

Hermione woke up the next morning in a bed that was not her own. Her eyes shot wide open when she remembered that she had not gone back to her room last night. _Great Godric, I'm in Tom's bed!_ She released her breath slowly as she turned her head to the side. He was sleeping beside her, close enough so that their arms were touching, nothing more. _It's not a big deal, Hermione. You've shared a room with him before. You were even ready to jump him last night!_

She was just thinking whether she should go back to sleep or get out of bed and risk waking him up when he started to stir. Slowly, he stretched and turned his head to the side, his eyes opening slowly to meet hers. They looked at each other for a moment, and Hermione managed a sheepish smile. "Sorry," she said softly. "For falling asleep in your sitting room. And thank you for putting me to bed, even if you could have gone the extra mile and put me in my own bed just across the hall."

He smirked. "I couldn't really be bothered," he said.

She shook her head, chuckling. "Well, I'd better go," she said.

She sat up, but his hand shot out to briefly take hold of her wrist. "Get yourself freshened up and have breakfast with me here," he said.

"It's early. You barely had enough sleep," she protested.

He was already climbing out of bed. "Yes, well, there are things to do."

She raised an eyebrow. "You mean there's no rest for the wicked."

"Yes, I have more diabolical plans to hatch," he said sarcastically, running a hand through his hair to tame it of its bed head.

"I'm sure," she affirmed. "I'll be right back."

She went across the hall to her room, quickly washing her face and changing into a fresh set of clothes. She passed her wand over her hair, calming her curls into a more conforming curtain. When she got back to Tom's room, he already had breakfast brought up by the house elf, set up on the table in the balcony that led from his sitting room. He invited her to sit down, and she did, admiring their view of the manor's extensive garden.

They started to eat in silence, and when they were halfway through, Tom began his business.

"It wasn't the Order," he said.

Hermione swallowed the sausage she had just started chewing. "What?"

"It wasn't the Order, Kingsley was telling the truth," he repeated. "It was Potter's move. It seems that he has gone rogue from the Order. This prisoner, Craven, said he has been with Potter for about a month. He was recruited by Weasley around the start of November. They call themselves the Legion of the Chosen. Apparently Potter and Weasley have been going around England and Scotland recruiting wizards to their cause. They number about fifty to sixty, but recruitment is still ongoing. He does not know everyone who has joined, only his closest friends, so I cannot get a comprehensive list from him."

"I find that hard to believe," Hermione said, frowning. "I mean, Harry's not the type to… he's a natural leader, but he wouldn't initiate forming a rogue group all by himself." She remembered how hard she had to convince him to form Dumbledore's Army back in fifth year.

Tom stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Well, somehow, this time, he has. Which makes him harder to control. He does not have the restraint that Kingsley Shacklebolt does. He does not see the long term outcomes of his actions." He threw Hermione an irritated look. "Your friend sure is being a handful," he said to her.

"I'm afraid that of all the Gryffindor qualities, it is being headstrong that surfaces in him the most," Hermione murmured.

"Now that Potter has broken free from the Order, this makes him more dangerous because he is impulsive on his own. I thought we might have an easier time if we got Kingsley on board, but with your friend going rogue, this resistance will go on longer than I initially thought. Is there any way you can get information from Ginevra Weasley?"

Hermione thought about it. "Ginny has been away from Harry since September, aside from that brief time right after Halloween, so if this resistance was formed after that, I don't think it is something Harry would discuss in his letters with Ginny. Perhaps I can get something from her when we get back from the holidays, but Ginny is fiercely loyal to Harry, and she has a stubborn streak as well. No matter, I will try my best."

"Curious, the name he chose for his rebel group," Tom murmured. "The Chosen."

"Yes, Harry has been called The Chosen One many times."

He finished eating, and leaned back in his seat. "Hermione, I need you to tell me everything about Harry Potter."

Hermione felt as if the breakfast she had just consumed wanted to come back up her throat as a cold knot formed in her stomach. She sat back and looked out over the gardens, contemplating this. She knew she had told him, last night, that she would help him.

"I suppose this is the time when I can finally be of some use to you," she said quietly.

"To be fair, when I said I planned on exploiting you before, I was referring to politics because you seem to have a good head for it. I never thought that I would use you for information on Harry Potter, because frankly, I didn't care one bit about him until last night. But now he has come into my attention, and I need to learn everything I can about him." He gestured towards her. "And here you are in front of me, Harry Potter's best friend for seven years."

"When I said I will help you, I was thinking about Order business," she explained. "I didn't think that I would be helping you against Harry specifically. It's hard for me, you have to understand, that even after everything that has happened, I still consider him my friend."

"I thought you considered me a friend, too," he said with a touch of bitterness. "Or do you only like me when it's convenient for you?"

Her eyes shot to his face to give him an indignant look. "No! Of course not! How can you say that?"

"Because you seem to be in such despair at the thought of betraying him, when…" He broke off to change his line of thought. "Do you think about Draco or Daphne? Are they not your friends too?"

"They are," she said. "And I do feel bad about what's happened. It's just really difficult to… you see, I _love_ Harry. Like a brother."

"Then why does he do all these things to you, if you had such a solid relationship? Surely he must know that it hurts you as well," he said.

Hermione shrugged. "I get where he's coming from."

"And that is what I also need to understand," he said. "And who better to explain it to me than you?"

Hermione poured herself another cup of coffee to give herself time to collect her thoughts. He gave her space, looking away to idly watch a white peacock strut across the Malfoy back garden. She stirred her coffee, wondering where to begin.

"I suppose it's because of that prophecy," she finally said. "The one that said that neither he nor Voldemort can live while the other survives. That he was the one to vanquish the dark lord."

"Does he not know that prophecies need not be fulfilled?"

"Voldemort made his move first," she told him. "That night he killed Harry's parents. So, technically, he set the prophecy in motion, because since then, Harry has always been pitted against Voldemort ever since he came to Hogwarts."

Tom nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I do have the other one's memories so I know what has happened the past seven years. Do you think Potter is capable of continuing this rebellious streak?"

"He can be very determined," she said. "You saw how it went when I told him about you. He cannot get past the fact that you are Tom Riddle, and to him, it's the same person as Lord Voldemort. And it's more difficult now to separate the two entities in his eyes because you _did_ assume Voldemort's name and position last July. You still have your Death Eaters, and you still have some influence in the Ministry. It doesn't matter to him that you're better looking than that snake-faced monster, and it doesn't matter to him that you stopped all the violence against the community. What matters to him is that you exist, and while you exist, he cannot say that the war is truly over. It all comes back to the prophecy."

She sighed. "I suppose it's because of Dumbledore's urging as well. He has, many times over, insinuated that it was Harry's destiny to defeat you. It was to him that Dumbledore showed his memories of you, told him about your horcruxes… something I was very much against. We were just kids, Tom. We were in school, and suddenly he was given the responsibility of stopping the greatest dark wizard of our time? Harry is not one for grand ideas, but he looks up to Dumbledore a lot and when Dumbledore died, I suppose Harry felt it was his duty to continue to fight."

"Dumbledore. Somehow I'm not surprised that old coot still causes me problems from beyond the grave," Tom muttered.

"So you see, I get where Harry's coming from. He's been groomed to destroy Voldemort. Of course I wish that he would calm down and hear my words, or just look around, but he's the quintessential Gryffindor." She paused as she finished her coffee. "I am actually thinking, that maybe, I could help this whole situation by seeking him out again. Perhaps he'd listen to me this time."

Tom looked at her and shook his head to the negative. "He knows you've been staying close to me. If anything, I think he would be more hard pressed to find it in himself to listen to you. Besides, you are a student, as you pointed out earlier. You should finish school first. However, I do I need a profile on people who would likely join Potter's cause."

"Due to previous activities of the Death Eaters, a lot would be happy to join," she pointed out. "You did an excellent job in ceasing terrorist activities when you came into this body and establishing a course for peace with the Ministry, but there are those who are not willing to forget the rough times and remain wary of the future."

"Which is why Harry Potter needs to be stopped before he further stokes the flames of this fading war," he said.

Hermione bit her lip, distraught, but knowing that this was not something that she could dissuade Tom from doing. "I suppose that's what you would do," she murmured.

He looked at her. "I'm not meaning to kill him," he said. "That would, I think, work to my disadvantage in the long run. I wouldn't want to make a martyr of him and give some people a symbol to rally to. No, I simply need to make him insignificant. Do you have any idea where he might be hiding?"

"He would be moving around, like we did last year when we were on the run from Death Eaters," Hermione said. "I don't think it would be easy to find him."

He nodded. "Then perhaps that Craven will be of some use after all."

She blinked. "The prisoner? You didn't kill him?"

He was amused. "You assumed the worst? No, Hermione. He was tortured to within an inch of his life, healed, then tortured again and healed until I got my due. He's alive, happily Obliviated, and will be released in the hope that he might lead us to where Potter is, should they contact him again. I will have some of my people watching him."

Hermione sagged in relief in her chair. Sometimes, she did forget that Tom might do things differently than Voldemort. Tom looked at her, still amused. "You are indeed a bleeding heart," he said, though the way he said it made her feel that he wasn't spiteful. "Now, why don't you put those feelings to good use and spend time with the Greengrass girls? I don't think Draco would be in the right state to play the proper host."

She stood up, thankful that her informal interrogation regarding Harry was over. Before she could move away, though, Tom caught her elbow to stop her long enough to give her a chaste kiss on the lips. "Thank you," he said simply.


	21. Chapter 21

Note: adult content in this chapter.

Chapter 21

Though it was the Christmas holidays and most people used the time to relax and enjoy themselves, the mood at Malfoy Manor remained subdued. Lucius Malfoy had recovered enough to allow him to move around the manor albeit with Draco's assistance, and she was surprised when the Malfoy patriarch thanked her personally for her help in brewing his healing potions and for supporting Draco when needed.

A few days before Christmas, Hermione received an owl from Kingsley, asking to meet with her alone. Tom was wary sending her on her own, though, and had ordered Draco and Daphne to drop her off at Kingsley's office and to wait for her in Diagon Alley. Hermione welcomed this idea, for it allowed her time to shop in Diagon Alley as well for Christmas presents for the few people she remained in contact with.

"Hermione," Kingsley said, welcoming her into his office. "I'm glad you can make it. I was afraid that Voldemort would not let you come alone."

"I'm not his prisoner," she told him, taking off her cloak. "Though he does fear for my safety and had Draco and Daphne escort me here. I am to meet with them at Diagon Alley later, so we should get down to business, Kingsley."

"Of course," Kingsley said. "But may I offer you something to drink?"

"Hot chocolate would be nice," she said.

A few minutes later, they were sitting across each other, each of them nursing a mug of hot chocolate. Kingsley began the meeting without further ado. "That attack on the Greengrass estate was, as I had told you earlier, not sanctioned by me or the Order."

"No, but it was Harry's doing," she said. "Tom- Voldemort had gotten information that Harry had formed his own group called The Legion of the Chosen. Do you have any idea about that?"

"I didn't know that is what they are called, but I am aware that a rogue party has detached itself from the Order and is now acting under direct orders from Harry. They are out of my reach, I'm afraid." Kingsley sighed as he lifted a hand to massage his temple.

"I thought so," she said, frowning. "Then why did you call for this meeting?"

"The Order, or what is left of it, has agreed that it is time to stop the fighting. I thought you should know that, and pass it on to Voldemort." Kingsley leaned back in his seat as if in defeat. "The Order was first formed years ago when Voldemort was at the height of his terror campaign. The goal of the Order was to protect the wizarding world against dark wizards who seek to kill and destroy innocent people. So if Voldemort will refrain from acts of terror such as what he did before, then the Order will not act against him anymore."

"I don't believe that you came to that decision so easily," Hermione said suspiciously.

Kingsley was uncomfortable. "Well, of course the Ministry learned what had happened at the Greengrass Estate. I'm afraid that they, too, blame the Order, in spite of my insistence that I had not authorized that particular attack. We are now under the Ministry's watch, not unlike Voldemort's Death Eaters. The Minister does not believe that we had nothing to do with the attack, but lacking any evidence linking the Order to it, she can only watch and wait for us to make a misstep."

"So Harry threw you under the bus as well," Hermione said wryly.

"I don't think he thought about the consequences of his actions," Kingsley said in a weak defense of Harry that was more a reflex than anything else.

"He probably didn't," she agreed. "But at least now we can talk about a truce between the Order and Voldemort?"

Kingsley nodded. "As long as neither side will do anything that will endanger the magical community. I can talk about the particulars of it with you, but I presume that you'd want to inform your lord first?"

"He's not my lord, I'm not his Death Eater," Hermione said firmly.

"Can you honestly tell me why you are still with him?"

Hermione sighed as well, holding up her hands in a helpless gesture. "I can't really explain, Kingsley. Tom Riddle has been a friend since last summer, and he has remained such. Yes, we sometimes argue about differences in opinion, but I do not feel in danger when I am with him. In fact, I feel quite secure. I do not expect others to understand, not when I myself can put it into sensible words."

"Are you sure you are not just blinded by the fact that he is an intelligent and powerful wizard?" Kingsley asked gently.

"He is both those things, and I admire that about him," she admitted. "But I am not a weak witch who needs to attach herself to someone more powerful to validate herself. I believe I am strong in my own way, and my continued friendship-or acquaintance, with him, is not due to convenience. It's a choice I actively made. You should know, that when he succeeded the former Voldemort's position, I did leave him for a while."

"You did?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

She nodded. "I was fearful that he would only repeat his predecessor's movements. I went back to the Muggle world for a few days, but he sought me out there and we talked." She shrugged. "In the end, we both agreed that staying together would be better for the wizarding community."

"It has not escaped my notice that you manage to temper him somewhat."

"To a degree," she said. "But it is not a basket I would want to put all my eggs in. He does have his limit, and this matter with Harry and the Legion of the Chosen may just try that limit."

"You do know that Voldemort still wants the Ministry under his control," Kingsley said.

"Yes," she confessed. "But I would actually prefer him to be the one in control rather than Dolores Umbridge. That woman is-" She stopped talking, remembering that she was at the Ministry. "She doesn't like me," she finished lamely.

Kingsley smiled this time, understanding what she wanted to say but couldn't. "I daresay you gave her plenty of reason not to. I was surprised when she agreed to completely exonerate you from the charges Harry trumped up against you before."

"Voldemort worked for it," Hermione said, Tom's other name falling easily enough from her tongue. "And you know how easy it is for Dolores Umbridge to be won over by his charms."

He nodded. "And I can't say the same for you," he said. "The fact that you stay with him after all this time makes me think that, perhaps, you were right. We should have listened to you more last summer. I do apologize for what happened at the Great Hall that day."

"He could have killed you, you know," she told him, twisting her fingers together as she remembered that day. "He could have killed you all, but he didn't."

Kingsley nodded. "I know. I'm rather glad, though, to have spoken with you. I wasn't happy that you have become estranged with the Order. You are a valuable member."

"It's unfortunate that none of you remembered that when I came forward with my plan before," she said sadly. "Anyway, that has all come to pass, Kingsley. I do have one question for you. Who among the Order support this truce with Voldemort? I just need to know who else might have joined Harry."

Kingsley leaned forward. "Minerva McGonagall is fully behind this armistice as well. As for the ones who have joined Harry… I can tell you who have broken off from the Order, but I cannot say for certain if they have followed him. Some members of the Order have dropped contact with me since the Death Eaters stopped their activities. Since the attack on the Greengrass Estate, I have not been able to contact the Weasleys, except for Percy and Arthur, who are both still working for the Ministry. I do not know where they have gone. However, I do not know if all of them support Harry's group. Perhaps you can ask Ginny when you meet her at Hogwarts?"

"But the term does not start until January, and I can't wait until then and do nothing," she said.

"I'm afraid I do not have any more information for you on that," he said.

Hermione let out a frustrated groan. "I just want all the fighting to stop, Kingsley," she said. "Why is it that when Voldemort decides to cease fire, another group just takes it up?"

"I suppose some people are not ready to move on," Kingsley said.

"I suppose so," she agreed. "If there is nothing more to discuss, I should be going. I'll tell Voldemort about this truce and ask if he has any particulars he wants written down, and I'll contact you then. We can look over both sides' specifics and iron things out from there. Hopefully, before classes resume because I have to go back to Hogwarts."

"I will owl you when the contract is ready for Voldemort's perusal," he said, standing up with her. "Do you need an escort to Diagon Alley?"

"No, I'm perfectly capable," she said, pulling her cloak around her. "Thank you for meeting with me, Kingsley."

The Auror smiled. "Likewise, Hermione. Take care."

Hermione made her way out of the Ministry feeling more light-hearted that she was on speaking terms with Kingsley again. She respected the Auror a lot, and knowing that McGonagall supported the ceasefire as well boded a better environment at Hogwarts. She walked the short distance to Diagon Alley where she met Draco and Daphne at the Leaky Cauldron. Draco ordered a butterbeer for her as soon as he saw her, and she sat down with them.

"Meeting go okay?" Draco asked.

"Yes," Hermione said. "Did you two get any shopping done?"

"We were waiting for you," Daphne said. "And Draco was feeling lazy."

Hermione laughed into her butterbeer. "I need to get presents."

"Don't tell me you're going to give presents to Potter and his crew," Draco said sarcastically.

Hermione faltered, and Draco's eyes narrowed. "Sweet Salazar, woman, were you actually thinking of getting them presents?"

Hermione buried her head in her hands. She had been thinking of getting Harry something, at least. "I don't know. I've always gotten them something. They're my first friends, Draco."

"Should I remind you that Harry almost got you killed?" Draco asked. "Even in the height of my pureblood supremacy stage and after all the insults I had spewed at you, Granger, I never cursed you so seriously. And don't even let me get started on Weasel."

"You're right, I know," Hermione said. "Things would be easier if I just stopped thinking of us as still being friends, but it's not easy to dismiss seven years of friendship."

"It was easy enough for them," Draco said gently. "Let go of them, Granger. Make things easier for yourself. I know you never really take the easy path, so give yourself a break and do it just this once."

* * *

Christmas morning rolled around, and Hermione woke up not knowing what to expect aside from the Christmas dinner she and Draco had sorted out with the house elves. She had gotten presents for everyone that was staying at the manor. As for Harry, she took Draco's advice and sent him nothing.

She was on her way to the Malfoys' sitting room but Tom hailed her before she reached the stairs. She entered his room and he closed the door after her.

"Merry Christmas," she greeted him, her lips lifting automatically as she looked him over. Even at early morning he looked impeccable.

"Merry Christmas," he replied, presenting her with a wrapped package. "Your present," he said.

Her eyebrows shot up. "You got me a present?" she asked, not expecting it.

"Yes, and I'm giving it to you now because I did not get anyone else any," he said, a hint of a smile on his face.

She sat down on the settee to open it. "Thank you," she said. "I have yours under the tree downstairs."

He sat down beside her, waiting as she pushed the wrappings aside. Her face broke into the most beautiful smile when she opened the box to reveal a first edition of _Hogwarts: A History_ nestled inside. "Oooh," she breathed, caressing the leather cover reverently.

It was, to her, a most personal gift. Hogwarts was their first home in the wizarding world, and it was the place where they met, where they lived together for the first time. It was precious to both of them. "Thank you," she said again, not finding any other words to express her gratitude. "This must have cost a fortune."

"It's a rare find nowadays, and I almost wanted to keep it for myself," he said wryly before turning serious. "It is my gift to you, Hermione. For the butterbeer, the fish and chips, the ice cream, and the frozen food you have given me when I didn't have even a sickle to my name. And for all the other less immaterial things you have done. I know it's not easy for you to be with me…"

She stopped him from talking by putting a finger against his lips. "It's easy enough most of the time," she corrected him, leaning forward to replace her finger with her lips.

He leaned into the kiss, coaxing her mouth open, and she yielded to him like she always did, allowing herself to taste him. All of a sudden, she was in no hurry to get to breakfast. She wanted to stay in his arms for the rest of the day as long as he held her like this. She was falling for him, she knew, that attraction turning into a more deep-seated affection, which she felt was not entirely one-sided. Tom Riddle did not get so personal with anyone, nor did he allow anyone else to violate his private space as she was doing now, both hands wrapped around his neck, fingers tangled in his hair.

She was disappointed when he broke the kiss. "We should get downstairs," he said, his voice a little rough.

"A few more minutes?" she asked timidly.

He gazed at her, a slow smile spreading on his face. "As you wish," he murmured. He reached down and placed her book on the table so he could maneuver her onto his lap.

They continued their kiss, bodies melding together once again, breakfast temporarily forgotten, making the most out of the few minutes the had alone.

They went downstairs almost a half hour later, meeting up with Draco, Daphne, Astoria, and Lucius in the main parlor where the Malfoy Christmas tree was. Not surprisingly, it was surrounded by many presents, most of them for Tom coming from the Death Eaters and Ministry officials who were eager to remain on his good side. Draco was under the tree, sorting out whose presents were for whom, when he caught sight of them.

"Granger," he called out, tossing her a present. Then he stood up from his crouching position to hand over a present to Tom. "My lord," he said.

Hermione sat down on the floor as she usually did on Christmas mornings, leaving one of the chairs free for Tom, and proceeded to unwrap her second present for the day. It was a satchel bag from Draco. She opened the rest of the presents, receiving a set of scented bath oils from the Greengrass sisters, and a luxurious winter coat from Lucius Malfoy.

She sat back and watched as everyone else opened their presents, stifling a smile as she watched Tom opening one parcel after another, surrounded by the biggest pile of all. She waited until he got to her present, and he opened it to reveal a ceramic mug that had the Hogwarts castle etched around it, together with a pack of the hot chocolate that he liked so much. He raised his eyes to meet hers and gave her a rare smile. "Thank you, Hermione," he said.

The rest of them finished opening their presents, and Lucius invited them to the dining room for their Christmas breakfast. Since it was not a Death Eater meeting, Tom avoided the seat at the head of the table, leaving it for Lucius, and instead chose to sit beside Hermione and across the Greengrass girls. The table was heavily laden with food, and the six of them started to eat without much ceremony. Polite conversation flew back and forth, and after they were sated, they each retreated to their own activities.

Hermione chose to return upstairs, where she put away her presents. Tom followed her, and once again invited her into his room, settling on the settee beside her. "Not your usual Christmas, I presume," he said.

"No," she admitted, leaning back. "Though I appreciate the efforts Lucius and Draco made in making me feel welcome, and the presents that I got from all of you..."

"Tell me how you celebrated Christmas before," he said, propping his feet up on the coffee table in front of them.

She let out a short laugh. "It was more personal," she explained. "Yes, there were presents and good food, but I spent them with friends and family and now I don't have either of those."

"Do you want me to reverse the memory charm on your parents?" he asked.

She was surprised. "I... but the memory charm can only be reversed by the one who did it. And I made sure to do a really complex one, even I'm not sure if I can do it."

He looked offended. "I wouldn't have offered if I didn't think I can do it."

She thought about it. He was a powerful wizard, and if anybody can do it, he probably could. "Sorry, I didn't mean to imply that you couldn't. I was simply resigned to the thought that the memory charm I did was irreversible. Besides, with the war still not resolved, I don't think it's safe to bring them back just yet. Maybe when this is all over."

"It might take a while," he said.

"Have you sorted out the details of the truce with the Order?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I asked Rookwood to do it. I gave him until after boxing day before coming back to me. It _is_ the holidays."

"I thought I'd go around and track people that I suspect will have had some contact with Harry."

"Take Draco with you," he said.

She shook her head. "Most of that crowd will have a negative reaction straight away if they see me appear with Draco. It's better if I go by myself."

He frowned. "It's not safe," he said.

"We're in a war, it's not supposed to be safe," she pointed out. "I hardly had a sheltered life since entering the wizarding world, thanks to your former self. I can deal with it."

"Fine," he said, though he did not look pleased. "But do be mindful."

"Of course I will," she said, and his brow relaxed a fraction. "I'll work on it starting tomorrow. For now, though, I want to salvage what's left of this Christmas. I'm going for a walk in the gardens. I want to try out that new winter cloak Lucius gave me. The material feels so nice."

"Yes, shame he had to get it for you in Slytherin green," he remarked, amused, as he stood up to help her put the coat on.

"I'm not complaining," she said, smiling as she exited his suite. She knew he was aware that she wanted to be alone, and for that she was at least thankful. She walked through the garden of Malfoy manor. There was no snow, but the air was still chilly. She smiled sadly as she wrapped her cloak around her, appreciating the warmth it radiated around her body. She used to receive a Christmas jumper from Molly Weasley every year, but she thought it was ironic that this year, she had gotten a cloak in place of a jumper, and it had been from the Malfoy patriarch rather than the Weasley matron.

She had been walking around the garden for a good quarter of an hour until she spied Draco in the distance, kneeling over what could only be his mother's grave. She stopped walking, wanting to give him the solitude he obviously wanted for himself. She felt even more melancholic at the sight. She wasn't the only one who was missing something this Christmas.

* * *

It was the thirty-first of December, and while everyone was preoccupied about it being New Year's Eve, Hermione was more aware that it was actually Tom's birthday. She had been thinking about it since Christmas had passed, wondering if she should get him another present. He had given her one on her birthday, after all, but she did not want to appear too sentimental. After all, she did not know how he felt about his birthday. Lucius Malfoy had arranged a New Year's Eve dinner at the manor, but Tom had told him to discount him and Hermione from the event.

In the end, though, Hermione had decided to buy him a present after all, though she settled for a generic one. She was turning the box over and over in her hand as she waited for Tom in his sitting room. He had told her to get dressed for a night out, and she had finished dressing before him as he had to meet the Death Eaters who had come earlier for Lucius' party. She looked up when he entered the sitting room, and held the box out to him.

He accepted the box with a raised eyebrow. "What's this?" he asked.

"Present," she answered. "Happy birthday."

He appeared surprised for a second. "I didn't think you knew."

"Dumbledore told Harry before, and Harry told me," she said.

He chuckled as he quickly unwrapped the box to reveal a new wand holster. "Thank you, Hermione," he said, trying on the holster on his arm. "My birthday is actually the reason why I decided not to join Lucius tonight. I had always preferred to spend my birthday by myself. However, this year, I want to take you along with me because even if I want to be alone, I don't want to be too alone." He pressed his lips together, knowing that he wasn't being very articulate about it but sure that Hermione would understand.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I booked a table for us at Kostas a few blocks away from Diagon Alley. I hope you like Greek food?" He offered her his arm.

"I haven't had it very often," she said, taking his arm. "You will have to order for me."

He nodded as he apparated both of them to Diagon Alley after. Hermione had side-alonged with him a number of times now, but it still amazed her how smoothly he could apparate and how easy it was for him to come and go from Malfoy Manor, passing through the ancient wards as if they weren't there. They walked at a leisurely pace towards the restaurant Tom had booked. Diagon Alley had its share of shoppers, and more than a few of them gave the unusual pair a second glance. There were no hostile looks, and Hermione felt that Tom's new, handsome face had a lot to do with society's wary acceptance of him.

They reached the restaurant, and the hostess recognized him at once, her eyes lighting up in appreciation as they moved up and down his attractive form before leading the to a table at the back. Hermione had to resist rolling her eyes as the hostess gave Tom another dazzling smile before leaving them. Tom pulled out her chair for her, his hand lightly brushing her shoulder as she sat down and looked at the menu.

"Does every girl really have to flirt with you," she muttered under her breath as she held the menu before her.

"I would kiss you right now to make my intentions clear, except technically speaking, you still are my student," he said. "Shall I order for you?"

She closed her menu. "Yes please."

He selected a course of cold appetizers for both of them to be followed by the main course. "You know I traveled a good deal after I got out of Hogwarts. Greece was one of the places I had gone to. I liked the food there very much. Have you ever traveled?"

She nodded. "But I have only been to Paris, Switzerland and Australia. My parents were dentists and they did not like leaving their practice for long periods of time. How far did you reach in your travels?"

"Turkey," he said. "I was planning to go around the world, but I turned around and came back because it was time to make my move back in Britain. My first group of followers had come into positions of influence within the Ministry at that time."

Hermione finished her appetizer and she regarded him with a curious eye. ""Why did you want to travel the world?"

"Magic is everywhere," he said, shrugging. "I wanted to learn everything I could. I'm going to take up traveling again later on, when my place in wizarding Britain is secure. Imagine how fun that would be, Hermione, learning about the magic of other cultures. We can write hundreds of materials about it. Egypt, China, Japan, South America..."

She dipped her head, noticing that he had said 'we'. Did he really think that she would still be with him years into the future? "It sounds tempting," she said, thinking that traveling the world with him would be such an eye opener.

He smiled at this as they began to work their way through their main course. "What are your plans after Hogwarts?" he asked.

She swallowed before answering. "I suppose it would depend on the status of the war at that point," she said. "I still want to work for a peaceful resolution to the rift that is currently dividing the community. I always thought of myself going into MLE. Not as an Auror, that's more Harry's type. I want to be in a position that has more influence, though. What about you? Are you going to continue teaching at Hogwarts?"

"No. I only took the position this year to break the curse I put on it," he admitted.

"So you did put a curse on it, the rumors were true," she said, amused.

"My former self was very vindictive," he said. "The MLE would be a good place for you. Not as an Auror, you are correct, but perhaps in the role of a solicitor. You will be good at that."

She nodded as she considered this. "What about you? What are you planning to do?" she asked again.

He frowned slightly. "I was planning to go into MLE as well."

"Do you think they will accept you, given your history?" she asked. "I mean, you would do well in any post you assume, but will they be open to you?"

"Not at the start, perhaps, but public opinion can be swayed," he said, shrugging. "I can be persuasive when I need to be. This year teaching at Hogwarts will have given the public enough rest from the acts of the previous war. I will have to see after June."

"At least the you have signed that truce with the Order," she said. "What do you think of Kingsley Shacklebolt?"

"He is honorable," Tom admitted. "Wary of me, yes, but that is inevitable. He is an Auror, and I am a dark wizard. I find him reasonable, though. I meant to ask you, if you had turned up anything while talking with your friends regarding Harry Potter?"

Hermione set her plate aside, done with her dinner. "I talked to Neville, Luna, Seamus and Dean. None of them had seen Harry. Ginny hasn't answered my owl, but I'm not surprised. I think they're together. I'll know more when school starts again."

He nodded at this, and they continued on to dessert. It was late in the evening when they finished, but Tom had no desire to return to Malfoy Manor yet as Lucius' party would not be over until well after midnight. Not having the luxury to roam wizarding Britain, as technically they were still teacher and student and they wanted to avoid any scandal as much as possible, they would up in Hermione's Muggle neighborhood.

They stopped at a small café for coffee, taking their cups with them as they were not inclined to stay with the crowd. They walked around, meandering aimlessly through the busy streets, her hand tucked comfortably in the crook of his arm. She pressed her cheek against his shoulder briefly as they squeezed through a group of merry makers on their way to the park for the midnight celebrations, closing her eyes briefly and just appreciating his nearness.

He shifted his arm, wrapping it around her shoulders and pulling her closer to him to help shield her from the buffet of people streaming past them. They walked in companionable silence for a few more minutes until they found themselves standing in front of Hermione's house, where they decided to take shelter for the rest of the night.

"It seems so long ago that we were here, hiding in my house," Hermione said with a short laugh as they entered the familiar living area.

She raised her arm to turn the light switch on when Tom stopped her, pinning her hand to the wall just beside the switch. "We're still hiding, in a sense," he said in a low voice that sent a delicious shiver up and down Hermione's spine.

He pressed her against the wall as he caught her lips in a kiss that he had obviously been holding back since dinner. Hermione gasped at the unconcealed desire in the way that he crowded her body against the wall, wrapping one leg around his as he nudged her legs apart with his knee. His tongue delved into her mouth as they turned their heads to deepen the kiss and she moaned with want as she clutched as his shoulders.

Hermione felt a gentle shifting and she opened her eyes to see that he had apparated them to her bedroom. Her heart raced even more when she realized that he meant to take it further tonight, and she was astounded at the visceral reactions of her body. She let him nudge her towards the bed without breaking the contact of their kiss.

They sank into the mattress together, and she let him press his weight upon her, relishing the feeling of being surrounded by him. He ground his hips into hers, giving her a sense of his arousal through his trousers. She reached down with her hands, grasping at his firm buttocks to press him even closer to her, showing him that she wanted him just as much.

"Hermione," he breathed almost pleadingly in her ear as he traced a line of kisses up her jaw line.

She arched her back from the bed, giving him access to the zip of her dress, and he slipped a hand behind her, helping her get out of her it. She shivered momentarily as the chill of the air hit her bare skin, and he quickly put up a warming charm over both of them to take the bite of the December air out. He pulled back to gaze at her for a moment, lying there clad only in her underwear, then he lowered his head to place an open-mouthed kiss at the hollow beneath her throat, one hand caressing the skin just above the lace of her bra.

Hermione threw her head back when she felt his tongue tasting her skin, sighing at the tingling sensations that seemed to spread throughout her entire body. She wanted to feel more of him, and she started to unbutton his shirt, her fingers trembling but managing to do the job. She slid his shirt off him, fingers grazing his shoulder as she did so. She twisted slightly to drop his shirt on the floor, and he used the opportunity to unclasp her bra, leaving her upper body completely naked before him.

"I want you," she whispered as she looked up at him. "Please, Tom."

He nodded quickly. "Yes, I know," he murmured, leaning down again to kiss her, pressing his bare torso against hers. He groaned quietly as skin met skin, and she wrapped her legs around his hips to hold him closer. He simply felt wonderful to her, and she lightly gave his bottom lip a gentle nip before tracing her tongue up his neck to start sucking on his earlobe.

He shuddered at this, and she pulled more of his earlobe in, grazing it with her teeth. He groaned again, louder this time, and he slid his hands down to brush his fingers against her knickers. Hermione gasped, releasing his earlobe, when a host of new sensations flooded her with that brief contact. He turned her head gently, catching her lips again as he slipped his hand inside her knickers to touch the bundle of nerves there.

Hermione whimpered at his teasing, and brought her hand down to grasp at his bulging erection through his clothes. He gasped as she rubbed her hand against it, and he stopped his teasing of her to still her hand with his. "Wait," he rasped, momentarily getting on his knees. She heard, rather than saw, him undo his belt and remove his trousers and she reached down to rid herself of her last piece of clothing.

He lay back down against her, skin against skin, no more barriers, and she trembled in his arms. "Have you ever been with anyone else before?" he asked her softly, rubbing his sex against hers.

"No," she said quickly, shaking her head, amazed that she could still process what he was asking amidst the overwhelming feeling that he was just there outside her entrance. "Just you, now," she gasped out as he ground his hips against her again.

"Just me, now," he agreed, sinking down into her gently but firmly, his shaft slipping through her slick folds until he was fully sheathed inside of her. He threw his head back and groaned from deep within his throat, and for the first time since meeting him Hermione saw Tom Riddle lose control of his careful facade. The thought of her having such an effect on him made her forget the brief pain of her first penetration, and only the sensation of being completely filled by him remained.

He started to move against her, pulling out slowly only to thrust in her again, his cheek pressed against hers as his breath came in ragged gasps the faster he moved. She wrapped her legs around his hips, allowing him to reach deeper inside her, her hands clutching at his shoulders as she felt consumed by him. She cried out when he hit her sweet spot again, and he maintained that angle, continuously thrusting into her as he hissed in pleasure. He braced himself on his elbows, increasing his pace until his hips were pounding against hers at almost inhuman speed.

Hermione felt her pleasure crest until it was almost unbearable, and she cried out as she reached her threshold, feeling the tight coil in her abdomen melt as her inner muscles squeezed him in her throes of pleasure. He threw his head back as he came after her, thrusting into her one, two, three times as he spilled his seed inside her. Hermione looked up at him as he climaxed, his head thrown back with his eyes closed and mouth open in a silent cry, and she thought he never looked more beautiful.

He slowed down as he came back from his high, resting his forehead against hers as they both struggled to catch their breaths. "Hermione," he said in between breaths.

She cradled his head as he rested it in the crook of her neck, still basking in the afterglow of their orgasm. She had wanted him for some time now, but it was only after she had witnessed him climaxing above her did she understand why it took him longer to pursue intimacy. It put him in a position where he lost control in that few seconds of an orgasm where his body's visceral reactions overruled everything else. To her, it was a beautiful zenith of two people engaged in the act of lovemaking. To him, it was a momentary weakness, because he always associated control with power.

To think that he had chosen to be intimate with her anyway endeared him to her even further, and Hermione felt herself fall over the edge of the cliff she had been trudging over for months. _I love him_ , she thought, caressing his hair as he calmed himself down against her, his body limp against hers. She bit her lip as she closed her eyes and rolled the words over and over again in her head. _I love him_.

* * *

Note: Thank you so much for keeping up with the story and for those who left reviews, many thanks over!


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

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Hogwarts received the students the first week of January. Hermione levitated her trunk into the girls' room and was surprised to find Ginny already there. "Ginny," she said in greeting.

Ginny turned to her, and Hermione noticed that Ginny looked tired. Her eyes were a little red, indicating that she must have been crying recently. "Hello, Hermione. I hope you had a nice Christmas," she said.

"It was nice enough," Hermione answered. "What about you? You must have been happy to see your family and Harry over the holidays. I was debating on whether I should send this to you over the break or just wait until I saw you in school, but the holidays passed without me reaching a decision so, here it is." She held out a Christmas card for Ginny.

Ginny took it. "Thanks," she said. "And to answer your question, no, I did not see Harry over the break. I spent Christmas with Mum and Dad and Percy at Auntie Muriel's. Ron, George, Bill and Charlie were busy doing something else."

"Does that something else mean that they were involved with the Legion of the Chosen?" Hermione asked pointedly.

Ginny paled. "I don't know. Harry cut off communication with me a couple of weeks before Christmas holidays started because he said he was afraid that Voldemort might glean some information from me about Harry and his plans. Harry said he will contact me again after the school year ends, when I don't have Voldemort as a teacher anymore."

"Are you aware of what Harry had done prior to the start of the Christmas break?" Hermione asked.

Ginny sighed as she started unpacking her trunk. "I only know what I saw in the papers," she said.

"What do you know about the Legion?" Hermione asked, sitting down on the bed as she watched the younger girl move around the room. "You do know that they attacked the Greengrass estate on the night of the Yule Ball, and Daphne and Astoria Greengrass lost both of their parents. Right before Christmas, too."

Ginny bit her lip. "Did Voldemort send you to get information from me?" she asked.

"Yes, but this is something I want to resolve myself, too," Hermione said. "Ginny, Tom and Kingsley have already made a peace accord with each other. The hostility between the Death Eaters and the Order of the Phoenix is coming to a close. If Harry keeps on fighting, then he will be doing so by himself. I am working towards finding him and making him see that he should come clean, before anybody else gets hurt unnecessarily." She was aware that her voice had taken on a patronizing tone, but she was getting tired of repeating the same words over and over concerning Harry's continued resistance.

"What are you saying? That Harry should turn himself in, like he was a criminal? So what, so Voldemort can kill him?" Ginny asked, raising her eyebrows and looking at Hermione indignantly.

"Gin, his attack on the Greegrass estate is considered a criminal act," Hermione pointed out bluntly. "But if he is to turn himself in, Tom will probably send Harry to the Ministry, and leave it to them."

"Voldemort will just forget seven years worth of enmity with Harry just like that?"

"How many times do I have to say that this Voldemort is different? He has already let go. It's time for Harry to do so as well," Hermione said. "If you cannot dissuade Harry from this path, then I need to speak with him. There must be a limit to his obstinacy."

"I have no way of contacting Harry," Ginny said, her nostrils flaring. "And I do not wish to help your cause. Hermione, you're working for the person who made our lives hell, who made hundreds of other people's lives hell. How can you live with yourself?"

Hermione threw up her hands. "I'm not justifying what he has done in the past, and he knows that I do not agree with all of his principles," she said. "But I would rather move forward to reach a resolution rather than continue doing things that we know are pointless anyway. Harry should take advantage of this attempt of the Order and Tom to make peace. We both know that in a straight out fight, Harry will never be able to defeat Tom."

"He's mortal now, isn't he?" Ginny challenged her. "He has lost all his horcruxes. He can be as easily killed as you or me now."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Ginny. "Yes, he is mortal, but that doesn't mean he can be easily killed. And I wouldn't stand for it." The idea of losing him brought unpleasant chills up and down her spine.

"You will protect him?"

"I already saved his life before, and I would certainly do it again if necessary," Hermione said.

Ginny made a strange face. "Goodness, Hermione, you actually care for him?"

Hermione nodded. "I don't deny it," she said boldly.

Ginny paced the room agitatedly. "This is why you're seeing him through tinted glasses. You think there is good in him because you want him to be good!"

"I didn't care for him the moment I laid eyes on him, Gin, all right? I spent months with him thinking about everything we were doing, and I didn't even then. I held off my judgment of him because I thought that he didn't deserve to be punished for everything Voldemort has ever done before I had any regard for him," Hermione said firmly. "He's not the same person we fought in the Department of Mysteries three years ago. He's not the one that killed Cedric Diggory. He's not the one that killed Harry's parents."

"But he's the one that possessed me during my first year here," Ginny pointed out. "He's still evil, Hermione!"

"He's a survivalist and an opportunist," Hermione corrected her. "And his moral compass may be utterly skewed, but what he lacks in decency he makes up for in logic. He knows continuing to fight will not benefit him, nor anyone else in this matter."

"Then why does he maintain the name Voldemort?" Ginny asked. "It would have been easier to come out and say that Voldemort is truly dead and he is a different person."

"Because he wants to take advantage of the power and influence Voldemort already has," Hermione said. "He still wants control. I'm not saying he's a saint and he's suddenly turned into a force of light, but the reasons why Harry is coming after him until now? He's not the one who did those things. If Harry keeps on fighting him, Tom's self-control will reach its limit and he will retaliate in a bad way. I don't want things to reach that point. So if there is a way I can talk to Harry, you have to help me do it."

"Well I don't have any idea where Harry is, okay, Hermione?" Ginny shot back. "I haven't seen him for months, and I blame Voldemort, and I blame you! You're involved with him, Hermione, I know. I saw you kiss him the night of the Yule Ball."

Hermione waved her hand dismissively, trying not to make a big deal out of it. "I was trying to pacify him. I saved _you_ from being cursed!"

"Well, I don't need your help," Ginny said flatly. "Not when you clearly joined the other side."

"Fine, be stubborn like Harry," Hermione said, her temper finally getting the better of her. "But at least, even though _Voldemort_ doesn't care about me like you say Harry cares about you, at least he listens to me." With that parting shot, she shoved the trunk against the foot of her bed and stalked out of their room.

* * *

Hermione was in the library with her schedule in front of her. Five months before N.E.W.T.s and on top of her Head Girl duties, she had absolutely no free time. She wasn't complaining, though. It kept her busy enough to avoid talking to Ginny. Before Christmas, she was almost happy that she and Ginny had gotten to talking normally with each other, but since their fight on the first day back from the holidays, they had completely ignored each other. She was also wary about Ginny's awareness about her involvement with Tom, especially when Ginny started giving her odd looks during Defense Against the Dark Arts classes even when Tom treated her like any other student.

February rolled around, and most of the student body forgot their school work enough to get worked up about Valentine's Day. Hermione wrinkled her nose as she saw valentines being passed around in school. She supposed it was a good thing, that students were going on with their daily lives, but seeing the stack of Valentines cards and presents on Tom's desk during her Defense Against the Dark Arts class was too much and she spent the rest of the class sitting with a stiff spine.

Draco had noticed, and he was chuckling as he walked with her to the Great Hall for lunch. "I wouldn't worry about it, Granger. He's too smart to be fooled by simple love potions slipped in with some of the chocolates."

"I noticed you have no Valentine either, Malfoy," she said airily.

"I've decided to abstain from any romantic pursuits for a while," he said easily. He reached into his robe to bring out a single yellow rose protected by a bubble charm. "However, I do appreciate friends. Here is a rose for you, so you won't have to walk into the Great Hall empty handed." He winked at her before sauntering off towards the Slytherin table, where he also gave Daphne and Astoria a yellow rose each.

Hermione smiled as she touched the flower with a gentle fingertip. Who would have thought that Draco would be such a good friend? She took a seat at the Gryffindor table, placing her rose beside her. Ginny eyed it curiously from across the table. "Who's that from?" she asked, the first words she had spoken to Hermione in more than a month.

Hermione looked at her, surprised that the other girl had finally broken the ice between them. Of course, Harry had cut off all forms of communication with Ginny, so she must have been having an empty Valentine's Day as well. "Just a pity present from Malfoy," Hermione said nonchalantly.

Ginny raised her eyebrow. "Don't have a Valentine of your own, then?" she asked.

Hermione bit back a retort, successfully reigning in her temper in a valiant effort to take the higher road. Anyway, Ginny had no idea how much of her affection for Tom was reciprocated. "Well, Malfoy, I guess. Yellow roses mean friendship, something I'm thankful for, even if it is Draco. He's been a good friend to me when all my old friends have gone," she said deliberately.

They sat across the table and looked at each other for a few seconds, until Ginny wavered. "Listen, Hermione, I'm sorry about that fight we had. I didn't mean to imply that you were a traitor. And I know that even if you… care about him, you haven't lost your rationality. I just… I'm really upset with everything. I have had no news of Harry since before Christmas. I really was telling you the truth when I said I have no way of contacting him. The last time I heard from him was through a letter that he left with Mum before Christmas holidays started."

Hermione played with her fork, considering Ginny's situation. She somewhat pitied the girl, loving Harry so unfailingly yet always being kept in the dark with regards to his activities. Granted, Harry was protecting her from being involved in any backlash that would result from his resistance, but it didn't lessen the hurt that Ginny suffered. Compound that with the constant worry about his safety now that he was considered a felon by the Ministry, she was not surprised to see Ginny distraught with no one at school to turn to. Ginny did not have many friends in her year at Hogwarts, for she always hung around Harry, Ron and her when they were there. And now, Harry had stopped writing to her because he was cautious about revealing information regarding his activities. Ginny was in a conundrum, because the only real friend she hoped to have was considered as an enemy by her boyfriend.

"I shouldn't have brought up the Legion business with you, considering that we decided at the beginning of the year that we were to leave politics and war business outside of Hogwarts," she admitted, finally relenting in the face of Ginny's obvious distress. "I'm sorry too, for saying that Harry doesn't listen to you. I know he can be stubborn. It doesn't mean that he doesn't care about you."

"What you said that time really hit me," Ginny admitted. "I was jealous, because Vol- Professor Riddle heeded you that time when I knew he wanted nothing more than to punish me for Harry."

"I only reminded him to be reasonable," Hermione said. "He is a teacher, and you are a student. It would get him removed from Hogwarts, and he needs to at least finish this year."

"Well, thank you for that anyway," Ginny said. "But the two of us... do you think we can still be friends?"

"We can try, but we would be fooling ourselves if we think we can avoid what's going on between Harry and Tom. Since the attack on the Greengrass estate, Harry has gotten Tom's attention and he has asked me to fill him in on everything I know about Harry," Hermione confessed.

Ginny looked horrified. "And you told him?"

"Harry was in the wrong," Hermione defended herself. "I can't remain tight-lipped about him when I cannot justify what he has done."

"Judging from what Harry wrote to me before he cut off communication, he thinks Professor Riddle has you under his thumb," Ginny said. "Therefore he will not trust anything you say even if you get the chance to talk to him. I cannot blame him, Hermione. You've known Harry for seven years, and you've only known Professor Riddle for a few months."

They finished their lunch and walked back to their common room, having a free period in the middle of the day.

"Harry, Ron and I, we had a deep friendship, no one can deny that. But I have always been the brains of the group, always pushed into that defined role. With Tom, I feel more freedom to be myself without being accused or teased about being a know-it-all. It feels refreshing to be able to talk to him about magic and academics as easily as Harry and Ron talk to each other about Quidditch. Tom and I have only known each other a few months, you're right," she admitted. "Yet he seems to understand me so well. He knows what makes me happy or sad, he knows just how much he can ask of me. It's easy being with him, because I can talk about things that matter to me, like books and magical theory, and know that I can be understood.

"He's a Slytherin," Ginny said. "He's good at reading people and manipulating them. Don't you think he's manipulating you as well?"

"I'm aware of that, and I know it's second nature to him to be cunning about it," Hermione said. "I'm not worried, though, because of the fact that I _am_ aware. I'm not stupid, Ginny. I can think for myself, and I can look out for myself as well."

They opened the door to their room to find a bouquet of flowers on Hermione's bed. It was a modest bunch of orange and white lilies and dahlias. Hermione quickly plucked the card from it, not wanting to rub it into Ginny that her day wasn't as empty as Ginny had supposed. She hoped to read the card later, knowing that Tom would have been the one to send her the flowers, but Ginny looked over her shoulder and read the card aloud. "To Hermione. From TMR. Huh. I didn't peg him as the romantic type."

"He's not," Hermione said, her lips lifting in a small smile as she dropped the card into the drawer beside her bed. "But he is capable of common courtesy."

Ginny gestured to the flowers. "I've never received flowers from Harry. Ever."

Hermione half laughed. "Harry's hardly the romantic type either. And I didn't think you would be the type to expect flowers."

Ginny wrinkled her nose. "Yes, but I still am a girl. However, aren't lilies supposed to be flowers given at funerals?"

"They symbolize innocence and purity," Hermione corrected her. "And their association with funerals is due to the belief that, in death, the soul is once more restored to its innocent state."

Ginny snorted. "Innocent and soul are words I would hardly associate with him. What about dahlias? What do they mean?"

Hermione knew the answer to that as well, though she was less inclined to tell Ginny. "Devotion, commitment, and a bond that lasts forever," she said shortly, picking up the flowers and putting it into a vase she had conjured on her bedside table.

"A bond that lasts forever," Ginny commented wryly.

"Don't make it sound so ominous, he's just referring to our blood bond," Hermione chided her. She turned around to go back out.

"Where are you going?"

"To thank him, of course," she called over her shoulder.

A smile graced her lips as she walked to Tom's office. She knew he would be free at this time, and she hoped he was alone. She could think of a few ways to thank him. Though they had been intimate more than once since his birthday, they had not had any opportunity to be alone since coming back to Hogwarts.

She found him in his office, as she had hoped, and he looked up from the essays he was reading when she closed the door behind her. "I wanted to thank you," she said. "For the flowers. And for getting them in autumn colors. You remembered what I liked."

He raised an eyebrow and lifted his hand, effectively warding his office from the rest of the school once again. "I think, if I had gotten you red and pink roses, you would have thrown the arrangement back at me."

She chuckled. "You assume the worst. I would still appreciate them, though surely not as much. You've gotten lots of presents yourself."

He waved his hand. "None of them mean anything. You probably didn't even get me anything."

"You're right, I didn't," she admitted, stepping closer to the desk as he stood up. "I thought perhaps, I can just give you something more… personal."

"Ah, Miss Granger," he said, smiling wickedly as he pushed back his chair to stand up. "Have you come here hoping to act out your fantasy of seducing a Hogwarts professor?"

She snorted. "I never had such a fantasy," she said.

He raised an eyebrow. "You mean you never, even once, had a crush on a teacher?"

She remembered her childhood crush on Gilderoy Lockheart and she threw back her head and laughed. "Oh, Merlin, you had to remind me! I actually did, once, on Gilderoy Lockheart, when I was misguided thirteen-year-old."

"Hm, that name is not familiar to me," he said, backing her against his desk. "Is he as good-looking as me?"

"Better," she said, smiling up at him. He frowned at this, and she soothed him by placing a hand on his chest. "Oh, but you are far, far more brilliant."

"I suppose that will do," he said, kissing her as he lifted her off the floor to place her on his desk. She returned his kiss eagerly, opening her mouth under his as he tilted his head to the side to gain better access. She ran her hands up his arms to grip his shoulders, losing herself in his attentiveness. She had just pressed her body closer to him when he drew back, earning a protest from her. Holding her gaze playfully, he sank down on his knees and lifted one of her legs over his shoulder, making her realize that he had somehow magically vanished her tights some time during their kiss.

Hermione moaned as he trailed kisses up the inside of her thigh, his other hand pushing her robes aside. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as he kissed her through her knickers, his warmth breath making her wetter than she already was. She sighed as he pushed the fabric aside to run his tongue up her length, trembling as he clamped his mouth on her and continued eating her out.

She tried not to moan loudly, but seeing him kneeling before her with his head between her thighs aroused her even more. He inserted a finger inside her, making her inhale sharply as he probed her before curling his finger to touch that now familiar spot inside her that always sent her closer to the edge.

"Ah," she sighed weakly, falling on her elbows on his desk and throwing her head back helplessly, unmindful of the parchments at her back. He continued his ministrations, and she felt herself cresting into her climax as he gave her one particularly vicious lick with his tongue. "Oh, goodness, Tom," she murmured, quivering through her orgasm.

He straightened up immediately, expertly undoing his belt and trousers, and slid inside her just as her orgasm was fading. He hissed under his breath as he started to thrust into her in measured strokes, his body curved over hers so elegantly. He leaned forward to kiss her as she wrapped her legs around him, bringing him closer as he picked up his pace. She turned her head, licking at that particular spot just underneath his ear that she knew he liked, and he groaned, his movements becoming erratic as he found his own release.

"Hermione, you always feel so good," he murmured, still nestled within her as he drew her closer to him, finishing their tryst with a languid kiss.

"Why would I need a fantasy when I have a perfectly delicious reality right in front of me?" she said teasingly, raising an eyebrow at him as they broke apart from their kiss.

He smirked as he traced a finger over her hipbone. "You wouldn't," he answered her. "However, this reality has class in fifteen minutes and as much as I'd like to keep you here…"

"It's hard, being in Hogwarts with you," she complained, not wanting to let go of him yet.

"I know, but that is the reality of it," he said, regretfully pulling away from her and tucking himself into his trousers. He helped clean her up before assisting her down his desk.

"Yes, have to take the good with the bad, I suppose," she said, smiling ruefully as she patted her hair back into place, watching him as he schooled is face back into its cool, indifferent mask.

"We always do," he agreed, giving her a final kiss before removing the wards from his door.


	23. Chapter 23

Note: I'm still alive! My apologies for the long absence. I rediscovered my PS4 and finished Skyrim and Witcher 3 and got addicted to gaming for a while, but my muse is back now and I hope you're still with me. Thank you for those who left reviews and messages, I really appreciate them. I hope you enjoy this next installment. Good day!

* * *

Chapter 23

The day of their N.E.W.T.s arrived, and as Hermione finished answering the final question, she put down her quill with a sense of fulfillment and grinned. She knew she had done the best she could, and she was fairly confident that she had done well for herself.

She stepped out of the Great Hall, and was immediately swept into a hug by Ginny. "We're done, Hermione, we're finally done!" she exclaimed.

"Finally," Hermione agreed, nodding.

They followed the rest of the seventh and eighth years out of the Great Hall. She discovered, as Headmistress McGonagall had told her a week ago, that as a tradition, the seventh years were allowed to celebrate their last day of school in Hogsmeade, sans curfew, and as part of that tradition, the teachers also went later in the evening to spend time with their graduating students one final time.

"Hogsmeade, then?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, but let's change out of our robes first," Hermione said.

They went to their quarters, where they found Draco likewise getting ready to go out. Draco took one look at them and shrugged. "Go get changed, I'll walk with you to Hogsmeade."

The girls changed into casual clothes and the three of them joined the throng of students walking down to Hogsmeade, enjoying the late afternoon sun. Apparently, everyone who had taken their N.E.W.T.s wanted to celebrate.

The Three Broomsticks was packed. Having walked slower than the others, there were only a few tables left when they entered the pub. Fortunately, Theo, Daphne and Blaise had gotten there ahead of them and were able to save a few seats.

"Oh, Theo has a table," Hermione said, pointing across the room.

Ginny hesitated, looking around for more space but not finding any. "I..." she said.

Hermione tugged at her hand. "Just sit with us, Gin," she said earnestly. "It's the last day of school. Might as well mix houses, eh?"

Ginny did not have much of a choice, as another crowd entered the pub behind them and pushed them along. Draco led the way to the table, and as he pulled out seats for Ginny and Hermione, Blaise let out a loud whoop. "We got the VIP table with the Heads here. Where's your fourth wheel? McGreer!" he yelled, waving at the Ravenclaw at the other end of the room.

Scott looked over and grinned when he saw the rest of the Heads at the table. He hastily made his way across the pub. "Can I join you guys at the VIP table," he said, grabbing himself a seat.

Draco stood over them, counting the heads at the table as he volunteered to get the first round of drinks. A minute later and he came back with firewhiskey for the boys and butterbeers for the girls.

"Don't get wasted, Scott, you have to give the speech tomorrow," Hermione warned the Ravenclaw.

"Why Scott?" Theo asked. "I would have pegged Draco to do it."

"Scott is the least controversial," Draco said, taking a sip of his drink. He pointed to himself, Ginny and Hermione. "Death Eater, insurgent's girlfriend, and… well, dark lord's teacher's pet."

Daphne caught Hermione's eye and raised an eyebrow. Hermione shrugged and grinned. The term was over. People can talk about her and Tom all they wanted, and if they wanted him sacked for having relations with a student, he was going to leave after the term anyway. After all, nobody could ever prove they had been improper during his tenure as a teacher. They had been careful about that.

Seamus and Neville passed by their table, carrying their own glasses of firewhiskey, and in a rare moment of camaraderie, Draco held up his glass to toast with Seamus and Neville. "Good day, isn't it?" he drawled. "Care to share our table? As Head Boy, I insist on this interhouse unity thing, at least for the last day of school."

Seamus grabbed a seat at their table eagerly and drank to Draco's statement. "Better late than never," he said, taking a drink of his firewhiskey. Neville sat beside him, albeit a little more tentatively, and took a drink as well.

"Okay, we need Hufflepuffs at this table," Blaise said, looking around and seeing Hannah Abbott. "Abbott! Hannah! Come and represent your House!"

Hannah blushed at Blaise's summons, but she slipped into the seat beside Neville. Everyone was talking all at once, and Hermione basked in the ambience of relief and simple relaxation. There was no talk of war, no talk of dark wizards or Death Eaters or the Order. Everyone was just having a good time.

"Those N.E.W.T.s really earned their name," Theo commented, knocking back his drink. "I did eight. What about you guys?"

"Seven," Ginny said, shrugging.

"Eight," Draco said.

"Six," Blaise said, grinning. "Can't be bothered, really."

"Must be nice to know you don't need to worry about finding a job after graduating," Hermione muttered.

"How many did you do, Granger?" Blaise asked.

"Nine," Hermione said, meeting Blaise's eyes with a challenge.

"Nine! Are you insane?" Blaise said, rolling his eyes.

"Hardly," Hermione said. "Hogwarts' record is actually ten N.E.W.T.s."

"Ten N.E.W.T.s?" Blaise groaned. "Who the fuck is crazy enough to do ten N.E.W.T.s?"

"Me," a new voice said as they all belatedly realized that someone had stopped by their table.

Hermione snorted into her hand as Blaise looked up and blanched. "Professor Riddle?"

"Yes, I did ten N.E.W.T.s, all outstanding," he said with a touch of arrogance, seating himself on the bench as Hermione moved closer to Draco to make room for him. "How many did you do, Hermione?" he asked innocently.

"Nine," she ground out. He knew that already.

"Ah," he said, smiling. He pulled out a pouch from his robes and handed it to Draco. "Draco, buy another round of drinks for the table."

Draco went to the bar to buy another round for all of them, and Hermione started to relax at Tom's side. She was pleased that he was sitting with her. Across the room, she caught Eleanor Hogett looking enviously at their table, and she smiled smugly.

"Ah, there's that self-righteous smile. I know what you're thinking," he said softly in her ear. "You can finally tell the other girls to keep their hands to themselves."

She laughed at this as Daphne leaned forward. "Hermione, are you going back to Malfoy Manor for summer?" the blond asked.

"Well, yes, unless Draco kicks me out," Hermione answered, still smiling.

Daphne looked excited. "Of course not, he wouldn't dare! I need your help preparing for my wedding. Theo and I are going to wed in December."

Ginny looked at Daphne. "You're getting married?"

"Yes, no sense in waiting," Daphne said.

Draco came back with their next round of drinks, and just as everybody toasted to Daphne and Theo's upcoming wedding, the door to the Three Broomsticks opened and McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout came in. McGonagall's sharp eye found the rowdy table and raised her eyebrows when she saw Tom sitting with them, with Hermione practically sitting on his lap. Tom saw her too, and gave her a sly smile as he raised a glass of firewhiskey to her. McGonagall sighed and rolled her eyes before trying to find a table for her and her party.

Tom leaned forward. "Scott, go up to the professors and offer them a place at our table. I'm sure we can fit three more in here."

Scott nodded and invited the three older professors over. McGonagall appeared hesitant at first, but since the place was still packed, she had no choice but to follow. Tom greeted them as they sat down. "Minerva, Filius, Pomona. I see you had the same idea to celebrate the end of the term as these students."

Theo stood up to get drinks for the newcomers as McGonagall nodded to them all. "It was quite a successful year, wasn't it, Tom?" she asked.

"Voldemort," he corrected her easily. "I'm done being Professor Riddle."

"You understand that it's such a mouthful to say," McGonagall said.

"It's got as many syllables as Minerva," Blaise said, laughing, totally inebriated by now.

The rest of the table followed his laughter, even Tom, who had initially dipped his head in amusement. "There you go, Minerva," he said, nodding towards Blaise. "Although I have to reprimand you, Zabini. Merely finishing school does not give you the right to talk to your Headmistress so candidly."

Blaise tried to sober up, but he had drunk too many firewhiskey. Draco took care of it by casting a Silencio on him. "That should help," Draco said, laughing.

"Thank you, Draco," Tom said.

"Professor, you mean you're leaving?" Seamus asked.

Tom nodded as Neville looked troubled. "But you're the best DADA teacher we've ever had!"

"I know," Tom said confidently.

"Professor, who will be the next DADA teacher?" Neville asked McGonagall, apparently still hung up on the fact that Tom was vacating his post.

McGonagall took a deep breath. "Well, since Professor Riddle has expressed his decision to leave a few months ago, I have been looking for a replacement, but I haven't found any yet. Most probably Kingsley Shacklebolt will step in as his obligations in the Order are easing up."

Tom hummed at this as he downed another glass of firewhiskey. "I did promise to leave a copy of my curriculum. However, I have been thinking that the entire Hogwarts curriculum should be revisited to evaluate its relevance."

"It has been last reviewed twenty years ago," McGonagall said. "What makes you think it should be revisited now?"

He nodded. "Circumstances change. One cannot be complacent. A lot of new blood is coming in. Muggleborns start out at a disadvantage," he said, surprising the whole table. "And that feeds the prejudice against them."

"Are you championing muggleborns now?" Flitwick couldn't help asking.

"I am merely trying to identify the root of the problem and see if there is a solution other than, say... annihilation?" he said snidely.

"So you're not against muggleborns anymore?" Ginny couldn't help asking.

"I would be a hypocrite if I continued persecuting them," Tom said, nodding towards Hermione. "It's no secret, at least not anymore, that Hermione and I are close. The problem that I have with muggleborns is not their existence, but the security risk that they pose to our community. But this risk can be addressed in different ways other than getting rid of them entirely. Besides, if you look at the pattern, keeping muggleborns out of our society and restricting reproduction within the pureblood lines would lead to a decline in the wizarding population within two hundred years. It would seem like a long time, but the magic has been here since the beginning of time. It would be embarrassing if we were to just die out. And I will not get started on the complications of long-term inbreeding."

He stopped talking to look around. "But we shouldn't bore these kids with business talk, so I suggest we continue this conversation at another table."

The teachers moved to a smaller table that had just been vacated, leaving the graduating students to themselves. Draco removed the silencing charm from Blaise. "It's safe again for you to open your mouth now," he said,

Blaise gestured towards Hermione. "What did he mean when he said you were close?"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "That's old news, Zabini. Don't be so dense."

"Do you reckon he'll run for Minister someday?" Neville asked.

"I don't know. Probably," Hermione said.

"What are your plans after Hogwarts?" Theo asked.

"Apply at the Ministry," Hermione answered. "MLE. I want to work as a solicitor. What are your plans? Other than marrying?"

"Oh, Theo's going into his family business, and I'm content enough to stay at home," Daphne said. She turned to Draco. "I presume you'll follow in your father's footsteps as well?"

Draco nodded. "Though I'm thinking of applying for the MLE as well. Field work. It has piqued my interest since dueling club."

"Professor Sprout has asked me to be her apprentice in Herbology as she plans to retire in a few years," Neville said. "I'm thinking of taking up her offer, since it's the one thing I know I'm good at. What about you, Ginny?"

Ginny bit her lip. She was, unlike them, unsure of her future until she talked to Harry. "I don't know myself. Spend time with my family over the summer, and after that... Well, Harry and I have been talking about marriage."

The table fell silent at the mention of Harry. The others were fully aware of Harry's continuing resistance to Tom, so none of them were surprised at just how uncertain Ginny's future was. After a long and awkward pause, Hermione patted Ginny's hand. "Well, I know that is something you're looking forward to," she said, her neutral voice laced with a hint of sympathy.

Ginny didn't answer except to knock back her firewhisky.

* * *

By the time graduation rolled around the afternoon of the next day, word had gotten around the entire school that Professor Riddle had mentioned that he and Hermione were, in his words, close. Hermione expected the avid gossips, and by the time she walked to the Quidditch Pitch which had been transformed into a venue for their graduation, she was used to the stares of the other students. What she did not expect, however, was that some of the looks thrown her way seemed to be envious ones.

"Hermione," Ginny said hesitantly as Hermione pulled her school robes over her head for the last time.

"Yes?" Hermione asked, looking at her expectantly.

"I don't know what's going to happen after graduation," she said slowly. "But I want you to know that I really appreciated this last year we had at Hogwarts together. In spite of all the small hiccups."

"I did too, Gin," Hermione said, walking over to give the younger girl a hug. "And you will always be my friend. I know you'll be with Harry, and I don't know how things will pan out with him and me and Tom. But I know you love Harry and it's not going to be easy for you. I understand, though."

"Because you love Professor Riddle, and that is why you're with him now," Ginny said, nodding. "I know you love him, Hermione. I wouldn't be your friend and not know that. And the weird thing about it is that I actually understand. You and him… I get it."

"You do?"

"Yes. I may not be able to put it in words for Harry, but I get it."

They shared a hug for a few more seconds before Hermione drew back. "Thanks, Ginny," she said. "Shall we go down to the pitch now?"

Ginny nodded.

Draco walked with them to the pitch, and as soon as Ginny saw her parents, she disengaged herself from them. Before they got to their seats, Astoria came up to them, pinning a small flower at the lapels of each of their dress robes. "My congratulations," she said, smiling. "Daphne's already in her seat."

"Thanks, Astoria," Draco said. "See you later?"

They continued to their seat. As Head Boy and Girl, they were seated at the front row, so they had to walk further along to reach their destination. Midway there, Draco gripped her elbow. "I see the Weasleys over by the far right. Potter and the Weasel are absent."

Hermione's head automatically swiveled around to the direction Draco had indicated. She had not seen the Weasleys for almost a year. Arthur looked like he had aged ten years since last summer, and Molly was the same, fussing over Ginny's robes.

They took their seats, and the graduation ceremony started. There were about fifty students graduating, and together with the guests, the crowd in the pitch must have been close to three hundred. McGonagall began the ceremony with a short speech, detailing how Hogwarts had risen from the previous battle that almost destroyed it and persevered to continue providing the young wizards and witches the education they needed. Then she personally thanked the Heads and the prefects for a job well done before starting the roll call for the graduates to receive their certificates.

After each of the graduates had gotten their certificates, it was time for the inspirational speech. It was usually given by a guest, but this year the school's board had suggested Tom Riddle, and the headmistress did not have the energy to argue the choice, not when Professor Riddle was the most popular teacher in the school and the next best option was Dolores Umbridge. He was introduced by McGonagall, who had probably thought hard about how she wanted to introduce the controversial man.

"For our keynote speaker, I have asked someone that is probably the most popular figure in wizarding Britain at this time, but at the same time, few people have had the privilege of personally knowing. I should count the students in his class to be fortunate enough to have him in the classroom, for he has been an excellent teacher that went beyond what was expected of him. He has written a comprehensive and innovative curriculum for his subject, and is highly popular with the students that he is sought out both inside and outside the classroom to engage him in intellectual discussions and, surprisingly, even in non-academic ones. I present to you Professor Tom Riddle."

There was thunderous applause from the student body as Tom walked to the dais as opposed to the polite one from the crowd of guests. He stood behind the lectern, placing his hands calmly on either side of it and took a deep breath before casting the sonorous charm on himself. "Thank you for the kind introduction, Headmistress," he said, his voice relaxed even as he stood in front of the large crowd. "I can only imagine the difficulty you had in thinking of how to introduce me," he added, eliciting a few laughs from the students.

He waited for the crowd to quiet down again before proceeding. "I wrote my speech for this occasion weeks ago. My students will know that I am a perfectionist, and I wanted to give you the perfect speech to mark your graduation, so I thought long and hard about the perfect topic. But that is the problem with selecting a topic. It can only be about one thing, while life is about so many things. And so, I decided to just speak about what is most important to me, which is..." His voice trailed off as he gave a shrug. "Myself."

There was another wave of scattered laughter from the students who had by now grown accustomed to his dry humor. Hermione covered her mouth with her hand, hiding her smile.

Tom continued to talk. "More than sixty years ago, I was like any of you, a student coming to Hogwarts to learn about magic for the first time. Yes, that was more than half a century ago. As for my exact age, suffice it to say that I am timeless." His mouth quirked up into a quick smile. "I was raised in the muggle world and discovered magic for the first time when I was eleven, and you can only imagine my delight at discovering magic and how well I did in it. I decided early on that I wanted to be the greatest wizard in the world, for I had no stomach for mediocrity, and I studied at every opportunity that I can. Even after finishing Hogwarts, I traveled far and wide. I reasoned out that knowledge was power, and power would translate to success."

He paused at this, seemingly thinking what to say next, as he was not reading from any notes. "I wasn't very successful," he continued. "In fact, I had come close to losing my life more than once. This was because I used too much magic that it altered the way I thought, leading me to make some bad decisions. Magic brought me to the brink of death, but magic also brought me back to life. Magic is as unpredictable as a woman," he said, shaking his head. "That was the one thing I did not learn at Hogwarts, and thus I think it is the most important thing I should impart to you as you leave the school. Perhaps you can keep that in your mind?"

"Magic is as unpredictable as a woman!" the student body chorused, with the boys yelling a little louder than the girls before laughing.

Tom chuckled and held up his hand to call for silence again. "Now, before the girls stand up in protest, let me make myself clear. That was not meant to be a sexist remark. In fact, it's the complete opposite. There is nothing more important to me than my magic, and to compare magic to a woman is saying something. What I am saying, is that you need to respect the magic."

Hermione's pulse quickened when Tom met her eyes to give her a surreptitious wink. He turned serious as he continued. "When you leave Hogwarts at the end of this day, you will be on your own, to do with your magic as you will. When you leave Hogwarts, you will feel the freedom to do as you please. Yes, the Ministry exercises some level of control over the practice of magic, but from my experience, it is easy to circumvent that. There will be no teachers and no curriculum to guide you. You will be left to make your own decisions, with only your experiences to guide you. Experience is the best teacher you could possibly have, because believe me, it's not easy to forget mistakes in real life. It's nothing like getting the wrong answer in an exam. But do not fear about making mistakes, for I am sure you cannot avoid it. Learn from it. Take something from it, so that even if it was a mistake, it would not be a complete waste. If you do this, then you will always come out the better person, and is that not what we all want to happen? That the person we are today is someone better than the person we were yesterday. I would like to think that each student here is an improvement from what they were one year ago. And I hope that next year, each of you will be better than the person you are today. Congratulations to our graduates. I will be checking where you are in a year's time, I promise you that."

He stepped back from the podium amidst another round of applause. He acknowledged them with a small bow, hanging around the dais long enough to help shake Scoot's hand as he came up to give his own speech, which is supposed to be the collective response of the graduates.

Scott cast the sonorous charm on himself and faced the crowd with a big smile. "Thank you, Professor Riddle," he said, his voice wavering slightly to betray his nervousness. "I also had a speech prepared, but I am going to take a cue from you and start off with something spontaneous. I would like to thank you for your inspirational piece. It is without a doubt that you are one of the most popular teachers we had this year. At first, it was because of your reputation which preceded you, but over the months it evolved more because of the respect you have gained from the students because of your dedication to teaching. Allow me to say that everyone will be mindful of your advice to them this afternoon, and we look forward to showing you where we will be one year from now."

He gave a nod towards where Tom sat, and continued with his prepared speech. It was nowhere near as personal as Tom's. He merely summarized what had happened during the previous year and echoed the sentiments of the students in finishing school and going on with their lives.

After his speech, the graduation ceremony wound down to a close, and as the students filed back to the castle to enjoy some snacks at the Great Hall before leaving Hogwarts for good, Hermione found herself walking beside Draco. "Scott's speech was very tame," she commented.

"Not as charismatic as the dark lord's," Draco agreed, giving her a wicked smile. "He must be pleased, having the chance to address the students as such. You realize a lot of parents will be thinking that he's not so bad, what with the students practically cheering him at his speech."

"His intention, I'm sure," Hermione agreed.

They entered the Great Hall, which had been converted into a reception area for the graduates and their guests, with cocktail tables scattered around the area giving everyone a chance to go around and socialize. Hermione snagged herself a drink as she passed a table of champagne flutes.

Tom suddenly appeared at her side, presenting her with a small bouquet of flowers. "Congratulations," he said. "Liked my speech?"

"It sounded very personal," she said, thanking him for the flowers with a grateful smile. "It was great."

She blinked as a camera flash blinded her momentarily. She flushed. She bet that the next day's issue of the Prophet will have some juicy bits about her receiving flowers from him. Draco drifted back towards her with Lucius Malfoy in tow.

"Congratulations, Miss Granger," Lucius said, handing her another bouquet of flowers. "A good year as Head Girl, too."

"Thank you Lucius," Hermione said. "Draco was a very good partner through it all."

The Malfoys excused themselves to go talk to Daphne and Theo, who were standing with Theo's father. Hermione looked around and saw the Weasleys standing at the other side of the hall, with Molly looking at her strangely. Tom followed her gaze.

"Do you think the Weasley parents want to congratulate you as well? They will not be coming over as long as you are standing with me," he pointed out.

"I know that, but I'm not going over there," she said.

"True," he murmured. "But don't just stand here like a wallflower. It's your graduation day. I'm sure there are more people who want to wish you well."

He relieved her of her empty flute and nudged her towards a group of people composed of Seamus, Dean, and their parents. Both boys introduced her to their parents, and Mrs. Finnigan congratulated her on her term as Head Girl.

"My son tells me you have done nine N.E.W.T.s," the older witch said. "It must have been a challenge finishing school, and as Head Girl, too."

"I have had help from my friends," Hermione answered a little nervously.

"I must admit, I was surprised when Seamus told me that you were quite familiar with Professor Riddle," Mrs. Finnigan confessed. "But the last few months have seen changes in the world outside of Hogwarts as well, so I have gotten better at being a little more open-minded. After all, if it were not for you, the state of things might have been similar to how they were a year ago and I might not have been present at my son's graduation."

"I did not do anything, Mrs. Finnigan," Hermione replied, blushing.

Mrs. Finnigan shook her head in protest. "Oh, you might not have been conscious about it, but whatever you did, took us all to a better place. And Seamus told me that you have suffered for it as well. I remember you were put on the Ministry's watch list last summer."

"Yes, but that is all behind me now," she said.

"I'm sure you have better things to look forward to," Mrs. Thomas said. "Dear, I think Mrs. Weasley is coming towards us."

Hermione froze as she heard Molly come up behind her. She turned to see the matronly woman, and her throat tightened. She had missed her surrogate mother more than she had thought. "Hello, Molly," she said, her voice cracking a little bit. Dean and Seamus tactfully steered their parents away to give Hermione some privacy.

"Hermione," Molly said, sniffing a little. "I just wanted to wish you congratulations on your graduation."

"Thank you," she answered, shifting her flowers to her other arm so she could shake Molly's hand.

"Are you well?" Molly asked.

Hermione nodded. "I am, much better than the last two years, as a matter of fact."

"Where will you be going after graduation?"

"I will be applying for a job at the Ministry."

"Which department, Hermione?" Arthur said, coming up to them as well.

"MLE. At the solicitor's office," she said.

"Where are you staying?" Arthur asked.

"Malfor Manor," Hermione muttered, knowing what Molly would say.

Molly closed her eyes and took a deep breath herself. "Hermione, with that man? Are you sure?"

"I'm sure, Molly," she said. "It's too late for me to leave him, and I do appreciate him for who he is, and what he is trying to become." Ginny would probably tell her mom about it anyway.

"Have you forgotten everything that man has done? Because of him, I lost a son," Molly said in a low voice. "Even now, I don't have my family the way I want it to be. George is different, and Ron has been going off with Harry and I don't know how to keep them safe anymore."

"I don't expect you to understand, Molly. In fact, I was not even expecting that you would come and exchange civil words with me," Hermione said honestly. "But Tom is different, he has changed. Yes, he is still has the same ambition, but he has changed his methods. I don't know how much Ginny tells you in her letters, but she has seen the changes as well."

Molly shook her head. "I once considered you like my own daughter," she said. "But honestly, I can't think that way anymore. I just wanted this closure with you. I advise you to stay away from my family from now on. To say that you prefer that man... it will hurt Ron and Harry more than your desertion."

Hermione felt her temper flare. "I did not desert them," she said, frowning and willing her voice to remain calm.

"But that is how they feel," Molly said. "I won't speak with you again, but I do mean it when I wish you well. I hope you will not regret things in the future."

Hermione was left alone, stunned. She gripped her flowers tighter, and suddenly Tom was at her elbow. "Everything all right?" he asked.

"Yes, Molly Weasley just said congratulations and goodbye for good," she said, feeling sad all of a sudden. "I think I have had enough of this graduation party. Do you think I can go ahead and retire to my room?"

He seemed to sigh inwardly. "This was supposed to be a happy day for you."

"I am happy," she told him. "But of course there would be some dark clouds even on a sunny day."

He faced her, cupping her cheek with his hand and bending down to give her a kiss that was so gentle that if people had any doubt left as to the nature of their relationship, it would surely eradicate it. "Let's go to Malfoy Manor," he said, offering her his arm as he straightened up. "I will go with you."

"I can wait in my room until the party is done," she said, taking his arm. "I don't want to take you away from any chances at socializing."

"I want to socialize with you at the moment," he said, his tone turning light now that she was less morose. "Besides, when it comes to other people, sometimes it's better to not be too available all the time."

She chuckled as they swept through the doors of the Great Hall. "You are such an artist."

She felt infinitely better once they had stepped out in the light of the setting sun. Once they had gotten past the anti-apparition wards, she allowed herself to be folded within his arms as he effortlessly apparated them to Malfoy Manor. Molly had severed her ties with the Weasley family for her, and it made her sad. But she was not so much bothered by it anymore. She looked over at Tom as he started to take off his formal robes and smiled as she considered the man before her. He was her future now, and she was convinced that she was never going to regret her choice.

* * *

P.S. - I read through the story again several times before posting this and realized that I had some inconsistencies. Will be leaving it as is for now and will be editing everything once I get all the chapters out.


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